Untitled
by Tawnyblood
Summary: You can't give life a proper title, can you? AU, and school setting. Pairings: SuFin, Giripan, PruCan, KoreaxChina, SealandxLatvia, GerIta
1. Phone Call :SuFin:

_AN: Yes, it was difficult writing Berwald's accent, okay? After I learned that it was mostly truncated words, it got a lot easier. If you guys have any ideas, please tell me! 3 Any pairings, feel free to request, but that doesn't mean they'll be added.  
Warnings: BerwaldxTino (SuFin)_

* * *

Today was a special day, emphasis on the '_was'._

"So Peter, how was show-and-tell today?"

At the mention of the special event that happened today in school, his face literally brightened up. "It was _awesome_!" The small boy exclaimed, throwing his arms up into the air in genuine enthusiasm. "I mean—you know that prompt that we had to do? Family?" His head bounced up and down as he looked at both Berwald and Tino, eyes searching for any slight showings of recognition.

"Ah. Ye—"

His voice cut through. "You know that I drew us, right?" A brilliant grin found its way onto his face as Berwald and Tino exchanged hasty looks.

"Ah… y-you did now? What did you tell them exactly?"

The cautious tone was not lost on Peter. His face immediately become a stony as he gently set the utensils down onto the plate and crossed his arms across his chest. "I did not tell them that I was a nation this time. I promise. You will not be getting a phone call about that again."

There was something of a chuckle from Tino's side and the Finnish male shot a quick glare at his companion. Berwald was not the one who had to answer the phone call. He was also not the one who had to attend to the parent-teacher conference… even though he should have. After all, he was the one who was Peter's legitimate guardian. Berwald had no idea of how embarrassing it was to be there.

No, no he did not.

"Honey, that wasn't what I was talking about. What did you tell your class about your family?"

Thick eyebrows raised upwards. "Um, I told them a couple of stuff." He stuck his index finger out. "I told them that I lived with Papa and Mama." A second finger came out. "Mama and Papa aren't married." A third finger was shown. "They live and sleep in the same bed together though." A fourth finger. "Papa is my big bro." A little pinky was shown. "And I'm not related to any of you guys by blood."

Tino's face paled. Out of all the things Peter could say about them, he had to pick _those_ facts? He looked over at Berwald and though he wore the same look he always has, Tino could see the surprise and worry in his eyes.

"Oh, Peter…" While Peter did tell the truth to the class, he failed to mention some very important facts. Such as: Tino is not a female (it's the most important), Berwald's relationship with Peter, and some other mundane information that would calm Peter's teacher's nerves.

"Wait, Mama, did I do something wrong?"

"Yo' did no'in' wron'. Don' wor'y."

"Y-yes! Nothing to worry about, Peter! Just hurry up and finish your dinner so I can wash the dishes."

He didn't look convinced as he stared first at his Mama and then at his Papa. Deciding that nothing good (for him) would come out of this, he copied Berwald's example and set about to cleaning off his plate. It shall be licked clean, a Peter specialty!

Tino watched with knitted eyebrows as Peter finally started finishing off his dinner. He heaved a large mental sigh as he picked and poked at his food. Appetite suddenly lost now that he knows a phone call would be waiting for him and a possible parent-teacher conference too. Fun.

* * *

Everybody could hear the phone ringing, but nobody made a move to get it. Peter stared at Berwald who in turn stared at Tino in the kitchen. Tino returned his gaze before shaking his head in denial. "I'm making today's dinner. I'm not picking that up unless you guys want under-cooked fish in your soup." With his point made, the Finnish male went back to cooking.

The two remaining contestants launched into a staring contest. The annoying ringing of the phone was only a mere background noise now. Peter knew that the Sweden man would crack soon. He just hated leaving phone calls unanswered while Peter didn't really give a damn at all. He had this in the bag.

Abruptly Berwald got up and rushed over to answer the phone, leaving behind a very pleased boy.

In one smooth movement, he scooped the phone up to his ear. Yes! Right on its last ring, perfect timing! " 'Ello?"

"Hello? Is this the Oxenstierna residence?"

"Yes."

"Um, I'm Peter's teacher and I am looking for his legal guardian. May I please speak to him?"

"This 'im." He replied, his eyebrows furrowing just a slight bit. Wasn't this how that bad parent-teacher conference started… according to Tino?

"Well, I'm very sure you're aware that yesterday was Show-and-Tell in his class and the prompt was 'family.' He told the class some… interesting things that I would like to ask you about." There was a pause before the teacher added hastily, "Not that I don't doubt them… it's just that Peter is a very imaginative boy…"

The Sweden blinked once before he scratched his head. So, Tino was right. They did get a phone call about yesterday. At least it isn't about Peter being a nation again. Hmn… should he go get Tino or should he take this one? "Peter al'eady tol' m'. Wha' yo' wan' to tal' 'bout?"

Her face paled as he talked. She couldn't understand one word he was saying. This guy's accent was just too heavy. The last time she saw one of Peter's parents, he spoke with a very clear accent. Why couldn't she be talking to him? "Well, um…" Oh, she could only hope that she was answering him properly. "First off, Peter said that he lived with his Papa and Mama. This is true, yes? These are the only people who live with him?"

This teacher was beating around the bush and Berwald could already tell what the teacher wanted to ask. "Yes. Peter m' 'dopted b'ther. Pare'ts di'. Peter thin's m' lik' papa."

_What did he just say?_ "A-Ah... that explains that."

"Tino, blon' Fin'ish boy, m' wife."

_Did he just say 'boy?'_ "Boy? Did you say boy?"

"Boy, male. M' wife." His hand reached up to scratch his head again as he leaned back just a little bit to catch a glimpse of Tino busying himself in the kitchen.

"In the report, Peter said that you weren't married…"

"Tino m'wife."

_I have no idea what's going on._ "O-Okay. Thank you for your time. Sorry to have bothered you. Peter is a wonderful boy by the way. Full of imagination. Um, okay. Have a good night, sir."

"Bye."

A small clink and a buzz. Berwald set the phone back onto its receiver and lumbered back into the living room.

"Hey, Papa! Who was it?" Chirped the small blonde from where he lay sprawled out on the floor, Hanatamago napping on his chest. He watched in silence as his father walked over to the couch, scooped up the remote, and turned the television on.

"Wom'an."

* * *

_Translations:  
1) "Yo' did no'in' wron'. Don' wor'y." - "You did nothing wrong. Don't worry."  
2) "Peter al'eady tol' m'. Wha' yo' wan' to tal' 'bout?" - "Peter already told me. What you want to talk about?"  
3) "Tino, blon' Fin'ish boy, m' wife." - "Tino, blonde Finnish boy, my wife."_


	2. Go Home

_AN: If I had a psychotic (but beautiful) sister like Belarus, I would piss myself everyday. No kidding. ._. Glad people liked the SuFin by the way. That was fun to write~ Sealand is so freaking cute.  
Warnings: Onesided BelarusxRussia, unnamed OC that just serves to move this along, and country name and 'human' name used (Ukraine) _

* * *

It seems like lately there wasn't a time when he wasn't hiding in the cabinet of the café lately. He couldn't ask Toris, or Eduard for help (their first period is sometime in the evening), and he most definitely couldn't ask Raivis (the kid was still in high school for Pete's sake). So he was left to fend himself against the Natalia.

"Ivan~ Where are you? I know you come here everyday for breakfast~" There was a pause where if you listened carefully, you could hear Ivan sniffle. "I just want to give you your lunch. Brother?"

The voice was enough to send him to tears. Well, it did send him to tears when he was a child, but that's another story.

"Big brother~" Came her voice, a bit too close to his hiding space for his liking. He pressed himself up against the corner of the box. It was times like this when he wished he were as tiny as Tino or Kiku. Then, maybe then, this cabinet wouldn't be squeezing the life out of him.

"Big brother~ If you don't come out, we can't get _married._"

A huge hand would have covered his mouth right at the moment he saw the doors jingle, but alas, this hiding spot of his was too tight. Ivan tasted blood. _When did I start biting my lip?_ Tears began pooling at the corner of his eye when the jingling became so intense that it actually shook the shelf of cabinets.

"Hey! Don't you dare break that! You're paying for it if you do!"

Violet eyes closed in silent thanks as the shaking stopped. Thanks to the café owner for drawing his psycho sister away, for letting him hide in here, for letting this be a daily activity, and for him locking the cabinet door. He could not express his gratitude even if he tried.

Minutes of suspicious silence passed before Ivan heard rustling close to the door. He heard a key being shoved into its slot and saw pale light flooding into the box.

"You can get out now. She left."

How he managed to get in by himself was well beyond him. He wriggled in place for a few seconds before looking up sheepishly at the café owner. "Can you give me your hand? I think I'm stuck."

A lot of grunting, pulling, and three other people later, Ivan laid flat on the ground free from his confines. He shifted when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was there for a second before it was replaced with a pat on the back. "You really should do something about your sister. She's seriously crazy."

The big man slowly got up while pulling his scarf off his neck. "She is not my sister. She's like my sister, but she's not my sister." Ivan explained, eyes never leaving his scarf as he inspects it for cuts and holes.

"Not your sister?"

"Neither is Katyusha."

"Katyusha?"

"Yekaterina, Ukraine. She has a lot of nicknames."

"So, Katyusha is like your sister too?"

"Yep. She's a bit of a cry-baby, but she doesn't scare me." _It's more like she's scared of me._

"Huh." The owner cast a quick glance at the small clock mounted up on the wall. "Say," He started off, deliberately choosing his words, "your teachers know about your Natalia problem, right?"

Ivan's suspicion was clear as he stared quizzically at the older man. "… Yes. They don't get mad at me for showing up in the middle of the lecture anymore."

"So, why not have a seat and tell me a bit about what's going on between you and the girls?"

Violet eyes idly watched thick fingers as they messed around with a long tan scarf. "Um. Sure. Why not?"

A smile appeared on the other man's face as he quickly got up, pulling Ivan up with him.

"Okay then! Go take a seat, I'll go get some drinks!"

* * *

"So Katyusha and Natalia are actually sisters?"

"Yeah. They were my neighbors too so we played together a lot."

Ivan stared down at his cup of hot chocolate (they don't serve vodka here) as the owner took a sip of his coffee. "Hmn. Did anybody ever tell you that you three look like siblings?"

"Yep. Our parents used to joke around that I was their long lost brother or something."

"They have a long lost brother?"

"No."

Awkward silence descended upon them again as Ivan took a small sip of his hot chocolate.

"So when did this thing with Natalia start?"

His violet eyes narrowed as he thought back to when it started showings its ugly head. _High school it was already there. It may have been in middle school. I can't remember anything about elementary school._ "Middle school I think. Around the same time Ukraine started asking me for money and she wasn't able to pay me back."

"Ukraine is Katyusha, right? Wait. Is she that girl that's in debt by like five hundred dollars or something?"

Ivan's timing was awesome. The liquid that still remained in his throat found its way up and he coughed it into his mug. _Ew…_ He pushed his cup away with his index finger and wiped his mouth on his coat sleeve. "_Wait._" Cough. "Five hundred dollars? She told me it was three hundred!"

Both stared into each other's eyes before looking down at their drinks. An awkward silence coated the café again.

Ivan's mouth parted to say something, but before he could the loud thundering of footsteps announced the end of the first period. _I've been here for an hour or two? Wow._

"Well, I better get back to tending the counter. See ya." He got up and left, leaving Ivan to stare at his soiled drink all alone.

He idly _swished_ the contents around as he watched the café gradually get more and more crowded. Between classes and lunch was always the busiest time for this store._ No point in me staying here. Hmn… I wonder if Toris is awake right now?_ The big man wrapped his neck with his scarf and stood up only to feel cold hands clasp themselves over his eyes.

"Let's get _married_, big brother!"

"_GO HOME!_"

* * *

_AN: Katyusha and Yekaterina are fan-made human names for Ukraine because she lacks one.  
"Though no actual human name was given for Ukraine by Hidekaz Himaruya, Japanese fans quickly coined the nickname **Katyusha** for her, after a Russian term for a headband (as well as a diminutive form of the name __Yekaterina_, and a term for rocket artillery). Some fans would later expand on this and coin the name **Yekaterina "Katyusha" Braginskaya**, which has been used as a human name for her in various fanworks." - Hetalia Archives 


	3. Hair

_AN: Thanks for reviewing by the way (I think I forgot to say thanks in the last one)~ And don't worry, there's no PrussiaxVietnam. She's just shy from physical contact (like Japan with Italy's greeting). I'm more of a Prussia and -coughcough- fan. I think I'm biased towards Vietnam because I'm Vietnamese. XD Love ya, Viet. It's weird thinking about the fact that Tibet got turned into a panda in the anime... Also, probably won't update until Friday or Saturday or something. Just a heads up.  
Warning: Gilbert (Prussia), Vietnam, and a mini custom lecture about Vietnam and hair_

* * *

She wasn't the type of attract attention, but she wasn't like Mathew. She wasn't invisible, but some days she just wished she was. Like today for instance.

"Nam! Nam! Nam! Nam!"

Everybody's eyes were on her as she tried her best to ignore the voice, that voice that just butchered her name. She clutched the books closer to her body, gritted her teeth, and changed her pace to a fast walk.

"Nam~ Nam~ Nam!"

Eyes of the people in the hallway were trained onto her back as she passed them by, a look of utter distress and annoyance on her face. _This is embarrassing. Don't think about it. This is embarrassing. Don't think about it._ Kept going through her head like a broken record. Her pace transformed into a light jog.

"Nam~ Nam. _Nam!"_

If she sprinted, what would happen? Well, she would probably get rid of her follower, but then she would be at her class all sweaty and drenched. _Getting rid of him isn't worth looking like a mess for the presentation._ She was defeated, again by the 'great him.' She waited for him to catch up.

"Sheesh. Vietnam, didn't you hear me calling to you?"

With a sigh, said girl pushed back a free strand of inky black hair. "No Gilbert. I thought you were just saying 'hot' over and over again."

His eyebrows furrowed at one spot. "Wait. How was I saying 'hot?' Though not saying that I'm not, mind you…" He waggled his eyebrows at her and laughed when she just rolled her eyes. He saw that faint red on her face, which just made it all the funnier.

"You're blushing!" He sniggered, his body shaking from his semi-contained snorts of laughter.

"From embarrassment of being seen with you."

The corners of his lip twitched at that comment. Yes, it was true; it was odd seeing him with Vietnam (and vice-versa), especially since he had no idea she even existed until a year or two ago.

"If you're so embarrassed you can blame Mathew! He was the one who introduced us!" He commented with a hearty grin as he slapped the shorter one on the back.

Vietnam winced at the sudden contact and at the tingly feeling his hand left on her back. She was sure she had a bruise there now. _He needs to understand his own strength someday._ "Gilbert," She started off, taking on the tone of correcting an elementary student, "You were the one who made Mathew do it."

She watched through dark brown eyes as the smile from Gilbert's face dispersed. "Wait. How'd you know that?"

"I cornered him with my rice paddled and made him spit it out."

The small Asian started having second thoughts about telling him that; the man was unnaturally somber now. It was very disturbing; more disturbing than the Ivan and Natalia incident. _Oh wait, isn't he best friends with him? Crap._ "I didn't hurt him though, so don't worry." She added quickly.

The grin returned to his face. "Say, Nam." He draped an arm over her shoulder. He had to fight himself to suppress the snigger as he watched her warily stare at his arm, a light blush scattering across her cheek. He tugged her closer to him. Gilbert wasn't sure how he managed to bite back a loud laugh at how large her eyes got. He leaned down so that his mouth was next to her ear. "You can tell me you know."

"… What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about how _awesome_ I am!" He exclaimed in a childish and flamboyant way as he threw both of his arms up into the air. Vietnam was suddenly quite conscious of how many stares they were getting.

_Honestly…_ "Gilbert, you are so childish sometimes." She muttered to herself as she gripped his sleeve lightly and dragged back down to his side. The other arm came back down shortly after.

"That's what makes me _awesome._"

She threw him a skeptical look before continuing, "I don't even know how you and Mathew managed become friends."

"I don't even know how you and Alfred became friends."

"He helped me when my family was having a difficult time."

"… So that's how."

She gave him a curt nod before heading off in the direction that she was originally going. Gilbert went and followed her.

"You know what?"

"I do know the word 'what.' "

"Wait. What?"

"Never mind. Just go on." She didn't miss the inquiring look he sent her way.

"It took me awhile to recognize you wearing… _that._" He didn't mean to, but the last word came out as a spat. Gilbert could see the Vietnamese girl stiffen up before she looked at him with a hard look on her face.

She did not look happy. "_This_," She motioned to the long, lime green dress she wore. "Is called an '_aó __dài_.' It's the national outfit of my country and the only formal clothing I have in my possession." _Just be happy I'm not wearing nón lá too._

"Well, you look really different in an…" There was a pause as Gilbert struggled with the word. Her mouth opened to say the word for him, but he slapped his hand over her mouth before even a gasp can get out. "I can say it own my own."

Gilbert stood there in the middle of the hallway with Viet as he struggled to get the word right. "Come on Gilbert! You can do it! I hope. For our's sake I hope."

He shot her a glare, which only caused her to smile. "An… ao dai." There was a brief silence as the German registered what he just said. "I said it right. I. Am. _Awesome._"

She didn't have the heart to tell him that he didn't say it with the accents.

"Well, you look really different in an ao dai." He said as if he didn't just waste fifteen minutes trying to say the word. "The only way I recognized you was because of your long hair."

"Long hair?"

"Yeah. Long hair." He repeated, picking up a lock of raven hair for Viet to see. "Why do you have your hair so long anyways? It's at your waist. I think you have the longest hair out of everybody in the college."

"My hair isn't that long anymore. My mother cut off a good chunk of it so that I could fit in more." She took her hair in between her fingers. "I think it used to reach my knees. No wait… it was my hips. Yes, my hips."

She looked up in surprise at Gilbert's reaction. He was sputtering and overall not making any sense. "Holy crap. That's really long. Why the hell was your hair that long?"

"In older Vietnamese traditions and customs, hair was regarded as a symbol of correctness, kindness, and virtue. Nobody cut their hair."

"Your dad must have put up quite a fight."

"He did."

"Well, this is another era! Another generation! Nobody has hair that long any more!" Gilbert exclaimed to the world for all to hear as he looped his arm around her shoulders.

"So… to a new era?"

"To a new era!"

* * *

_Translations:  
1) When Viet said that it sounded like Prussia was saying, 'hot.' It was because the 'Nam' part of Vietnam sounded a bit like 'nóng' which is 'hot' in Vietnamese.  
2) __aó __dài - tight-fitting silk tunic worn over pantaloons; literal translation is 'long shirt'_  
3) nón lá - conical hat made of straw; literal translation is 'straw hat'  
Random:  
1) Vietnam actually has foreign relations to Canada.  
2) Canada and America share the world's longest undefended border!  
3) If you say 'Nam' over and over and over again, it sounds like 'nom.' 


	4. Fireflies :Giripan:

_AN: Sorry about the false alarm yesterday! I wasn't thinking properly and... yeah. "What makes me update this so frequently?" I ask myself. To be quite frank, I have no idea. I guess I just have too many IDEAS (20 total at the moment) for Hetalia. Loosely based off the song 'Fireflies' by Owl City. And guess what? I actually included some form of kitties in there! 8D I'm not sure of what to write next (yes, there's a next time) so if you guys have any pairings and/or ideas, I'll gladly accept them. =3 And I still need to respond to the reviews because I feel guilty about not responding. I'll get to them sooner or later.  
Warning: Giripan (GreecexJapan) _

* * *

Hand in hand, he trailed after his companion as he dragged them through the dark halls of their college. Everybody was tucked in the dorms, well, everybody besides them. Which was why it was the utmost importance that they walked very, very quietly.

Nobody was allowed to wander through the college after curfew, outside the campus grounds was fine, but not inside. It was so important that the student handbook clearly stated it in large, bold, and obnoxious font on the first page. You couldn't have missed it even if you were blind. So why was he doing this again?

One look at the Greek man in front of him told him all he needed to know. He's doing this because Hercules asked him to. _How humorous._ Kiku concluded as he was dragged along. _If Ludwig or Feliciano had asked me to come with them, I never would have agreed._

"Heracles," He hissed. "Where are we?"

"The freshman classes I think. I feel bad for the poor kids. Their classes are all the way on the top and the dorms are all the way at the bottom."

"Just be happy that you weren't actually here when we started."

Heracles looked over his shoulder just to smile at Kiku who in response looked away, a light blush littering his face. "Couldn't they install elevators in here?" He directed his attention to the path in front of him. "You would have thought they already did."

"Wait." The Japanese's head snapped upwards to meet quizzical green eyes. "You didn't know that they already had elevators?"

* * *

"Heracles? If you don't mind me asking, what is in the bag?"

"This bag?" He parroted, clapping a hand to the white messenger bag that rested against his hip. "This," He said again, tapping the bag with less strength, "Is a secret. You'll find out when we get there."

The Japanese man just stared at his friend, a tight line for a mouth. That was not the kind of answer he was looking for.

Kiku's eyebrows knitted together as he pondered over what could be in there. Maybe it was a camera? He had noticed that the Greek man failed to have any pockets on him tonight. And from the way he kept on going off about tonight, it might be something that he would like to take a picture of. Though that wouldn't explain why he had such a huge bag for a small item.

_Just drop it._ Kiku told himself as he stood like a soldier in the elevator. _There's a reason why he won't tell me._

With that thought, he decided to drop the matter. He'll find out when they get to the roof. For now, maybe he'll just enjoy the pleasant stillness that befell the two odd couple.

* * *

"Heracles? Do you really have to do this?"

Said man sighed through his nose; why was he _not_ expecting that question? Even after Kiku asked him five times before they left the elevator and fifteen more times as they walked up the stairs to the roof. "Yes, Kiku, yes I have to do this."

"It's a bit difficult to walk like this though…"

Yes, they were (and still are) tripping over each other's legs and yes; they had almost fallen down the stairs… five times to be exact. And it was all because Heracles refused to let his special guest take a peek earlier than necessary so he had opted to cover the man's eyes with his own hand (he forgot the blindfold back in his room).

"… Her—"

"Yes, yes. We're here now." He could feel the cool night air washing over his body as Heracles led him onto the terrace and suddenly his blindfold was gone and he could see.

And what a sight it was. The moon cast an unearthly glow on everything that it could see and all who could see it. A white glow was cast on the city below it and it brought a smile to his lips. The city has never looked so beautiful before.

The dark blue of the night sky seemed to wrap a shawl around the moon and the tiny, little shimmering specks that were called 'stars?' They popped out of the darkness, danced with each other and the things around them. There were so many, and they all looked within reach. Where they? Maybe, maybe he could just touch them…

A pale hand reached out into the blackness of the night, a perfect contrast. A smile pulled at Heracles' lip as he took a seat next to the door. _Kiku looks really… magnificent tonight._ He thought as peaceful quiet pulled his eyelids close.

He felt like he could almost touch the stars. Maybe just a bit more? Just a bit more…

One of the stars landed on his outstretched fingers, pulling Kiku back into reality. _A-A star!?_ He was too afraid to move his hand. Could one small movement break this enchanting moment? He wasn't too keen to find out.

The little star flew off and Kiku watched it with wide eyes as it found a home on top of the sleeping man's nose. Emerald eyes fluttered open and stared down at the little star on his nose. The smile he wore to sleep grew larger. "Hello there, little Lightning Bug."

_Lightning bug…_ "W-Wait…" Kiku stammered as his mind finally broke out of its trance and started rolling in the right direction. _We're in the city. This many stars shouldn't be seen. The city lights are too bright!_ "These are all fireflies?!"

A chuckle and Heracles pushed himself up. Looping an arm around the smaller man's waist, an arm slowly uncurled itself. A mini light found its resting place on his finger and the arm slowly curled back to show Kiku. "Yep."

"This is just… amazing."

"Hold on, it gets better."

Kiku watched in silence as Heracles hustled back to his original spot and started ruffling through his bag. Something brown and black flashed by before it was hidden underneath the red shirt that Heracles decided to wear tonight. A black eyebrow arched upwards into a silent question.

"Here," He said as he brought a black, cat headband out from underneath his shirt. There was a light blush on his face as he handed it over. "You don't have to wear it."

"I'll wear it if you'll wear it."

Heracles smiled at him.

* * *

"What are so many fireflies doing up here?"

"I'm not too sure." Heracles replied. Something caught his attention. _Hmn… _"Make sure you keep your back straight." He chided, gently pushing Kiku's back into a straight line. A small smile adorned his tan face as he took up his proper place as Kiku's dance partner.

A small blush of red caused his face to burn as he felt strong hands at his waist and another grip his hand. His other trembling hand managed to find its way onto Heracles' shoulder, with a little help from said man too.

"Come on, here we go again."

All he could do was open his mouth before he was whisked around like the princess in all those fairy tales.

It didn't feel magical. It was magical. It was enchanting, incredible, mindboggling; it was all that and all those other words in between too.

Kiku wasn't what most people would describe as 'tall' and it was all the more apparent whenever he was standing next to Heracles who could easily be five feet eleven or eight. It always bothered him a bit (even if he masked it well), but he couldn't remember why at the moment.

Why did his short height bother him before, but it doesn't bother him now when his feet doesn't touch the ground as Heracles whisks him around and around, the fireflies dancing with them.

And then Heracles tried to dip him. _Tried_ being the keyword.

His legs shot up, but his back decided to fall madly in love with gravity. Simply put, Kiku almost did a back flip over Heracles' arm.

"Sorry." He murmured as he picked up the fallen headband off the ground. He dusted it off before crowning the small Japanese man. "You're okay, right? No scratches or bruises or anything?"

"No, Heracles. I'm fine." Hesitation. "It's just… why are all of these fireflies on me?"

"I guess they must like you quite a bit." He gave one of the ears a quick flick, watching the bug fly off into the night before adjusting his own headband.

He honestly thought that he was about to break into cold sweat. "H-Heracles-san!" Kiku stammered, a tremor in his voice as more and more lightning bugs found a home on him. "H-How come there's hardly any on you?"

The tan man cracked a grin when he took in just how many blinking fireflies were on the boy. He probably looked like a lighthouse from a distant. He surveyed his body, counting off how many fireflies made them self-known on him. _Only ten. Not bad._ "I still have a bit more than the average person would."

"I r-realize tha—" He stopped talking and stared at the firefly that suddenly decided to land on his nose.

Heracles laughed.

* * *

They've been out all night with the fireflies and the Greek had the honor of seeing most of the bugs disappear for the day. Only a few of those cute, little bugs stuck around, seemingly attracted to the sleeping figure of Kiku like a moth to a flame.

He stared down at the still figure slumped up against him, and couldn't help, but chuckle at the sight. _It's a good thing that the approaching day is a weekend._ He wrapped his arm around Kiku's shoulder. _He would have been pretty mad at me._

Heracles stared down at Kiku before brushing a light kiss onto his forehead.

"Good night, little Kitty."

* * *

_AN: They're getting longer and longer! =o_


	5. You're Awesome :PruCan:

_AN: It was only supposed to be around 2,000 words. I don't know what happened. ._. I'm tired. Don't expect too much out of me right now. The weight training unit took a lot out of me.  
Warning: Implied PruCan? Maybe? Maybe? No? Yes?_

* * *

"You'll make a pretty kick-ass spy, you know."

"Wait, what?"

"You'll make a kick-ass spy."

His breathing was coming out in labored pants as Mathew stared at Gilbert with a look that just screamed, 'What are you taking? And why haven't you told me?' "Gilbert," Running long distance was hard enough to do without talking, "What makes," Huff, pant. "You say that?"

A whistle floated out of Gil's mouth as he backpedaled ahead of the Canadian. A grin threatened to break at the absolutely _horrible_ look the boy gave him before speeding up. "Oh~ Well… you know." A finger gave close to his head and he swirled it around, pretending it was twisting a lock of hair around it.

_No. No I don't know!_ Mathew thought bitterly to himself as he watched Gilbert's little display. "Just get on with it!" He snapped, his feet taking dainty little steps to let his lungs catch some much-needed air. _So tired…_

"Hey," Gilbert quickly shifted his pace to match the Canadian's. He nudged him with his shoulder. "Get moving. Once you fall back, it's hard to get back up again."

It was like life loved Gilbert or something; it just had to prove him right. "Fine, fine." He muttered as he tried to pick up the pace. Never in his life has his legs burned and ached this much. It was as if they suddenly came to life and now were brutally fighting with the rest of him just to catch a little break. Oh how he hated to run the mile.

Silver eyebrows knitted together. Was he going to make it? How far behind is he to everybody? Crimson eyes searched for the next person. _Shit…_ How about behind? _Shit._ "Hey, hey, hey, Mattie. You do know that we're last, right?"

He was tired, he was very tired, and he did not have the time to deal with the 'awesome' Prussian at the moment. And that look on his pale face? It didn't make Mathew's blood boil, but it sure did make him want to slap the man. "Gilbert." He struggled to get oxygen into his lungs. "Not everyone can run their mile as fast as you do!"

"Hmn. That is true. Not everybody is as _awesome_ as I am."

He rolled his eyes. This was going to be a very long run.

* * *

He just dropped all of his stuff: binders, folders, and workbooks, onto the desk in front of him before taking a seat. He buried his strawberry blonde head in his arms as he wondered where his backpack went. Is it in the swimming pool right now? Hanging off the flagpole? Thrown away into the dumpster… again? Mathew sighed through his nose and rested his head on his hands. He didn't notice himself watching the door, just waiting for that certain person to make his appearance.

The albino probably flung himself through the door of his English class, all the while screaming like Tarzan. He landed with a hefty _thump_ and he could feel everybody's gaze on him. Gilbert held up his prize for the whole entire class to see, a manic glint flashing frantically in his eyes. "The _awesome_ me got your backpack back, Mattie!"

Yes, it was embarrassing when everybody looked at each other with looks that just screamed out, 'Mattie? Who's Mattie?' It also didn't make it any better when the Prussian strolled over to him, confident and cocky smile on face, eyes flashing with a vibrant energy that caused a good ninety percent of the females to swoon, and then he stopped in front of Mattie's desk.

Everybody stared past Mathew and wondered, 'Why is Gilbert just standing there at that empty desk?' Then the Canadian was viewable by everybody when Gilbert suddenly started ruffling up his hair. "Got in trouble because of Alfred again, didn't you?"

Everybody went back to their own thing with the spell broken, only a few of Gilbert's fans were watching. "Um, thanks for getting it back." He said in that whispered way of talking he developed. He took a peak inside the bag. "Was it the flagpole again?"

"Flagpole again."

"Ah, thanks for getting it back."

"You gonna crack?"

That caught his attention. "Wait, what?"

"You know when those people who are always thought of as freaks?"

"What about them?"

"You know when they crack and then they come with all those guns and shot everybody?"

"… Yeah?"

"When are you going to do that?"

He didn't know how Gilbert could ask him that question with such a straight face. He could feel his face sizzling up. "G-Gil! I'm not like that! I'm not going to snap!" Mathew sat back down into his seat, when had he stood up? He's not too sure. "Sheesh, what makes you think that?"

"Well, let me count the reasons why." The albino responded in his overly dramatic way as he brought his hand out. "Reason number one, " One finger stuck up. "You're invisible without you even trying. Nobody would notice if you disappeared for a day or two."

The Canadian opened his mouth to ask a question, but the Prussian cut in. "Number two," His middle finger appeared. "You're legal. You can buy a gun." His ring finger popped up. "Reason three, you'll make a kick-ass spy because of your invisibility." Four fingers appeared. "And lastly, you're not as awesome as I am. Sorry, Mattie."

"Gil… some of those reasons didn't even make sense."

"Maybe they were just too _awesome_ for somebody like you to understand."

"Gil, that mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble some day."

"Nothing that the _awesome_ me can't handle!" Gil shouted triumphantly, jabbing a finger into his chest as he struck a dynamic pose.

The corners of his lips twitched into a traitorous smile as Mattie tried to do his best to glare at the standing man. "Yeah, let's just hope so for your sake."

* * *

"Mattew, Matt, Mattie." He hissed as he threw crumbled paper as small as pebbles at the blonde's head. He watched in bored amusement as the binder 'pebbles' bounced off his head one by one.

He could only imagine the look the blonde was sporting at the moment. Was it the 'Next time you wake me up for pancakes at four a.m., I'm going to kill you'look, the 'Stop drinking beer in my room and leaving a mess wherever you go' look, or was it the 'Why can't you just stay at your own place' look? Gilbo could only imagine for he was sitting just diagonally behind the blonde.

Crumpling up more paper between his fingers, one red eye closed as he aimed for Mattie's bright blonde head that stuck out like the first star in the night sky. _Just to the left a little…_ A smirk broke out on his face when the blonde head shifted a bit to the left and into a bulls eye. _Am I awesome or what?_ The paper bounced off the Canadian's head.

The Prussian pressed his back into the chair as he propped his legs onto the wooden desk in front of him and rested his head on his arms. That odd curl that protruded out of Mathew's head like a dead limb twitched. The smirk on Gilbert's face grew even larger and more… bone chilling. _I'll let him chill first before shooting him again._

Ten minutes or more must have passed before the Canadian's tense posture totally slacked. Those slender shoulders slumped downwards, the body leaned forward, elbows were propped up, and that cute little head was probably resting on his fingers.

Ripping off more paper from his work sheet, Gilbert quickly scribbled down (in his awesome legible writing) his question. Balling it up, he flicked it over Mathew's head.

Something bumped his elbows, jerking him out of his light sleep. With bleary eyes, the Canadian shifted in his seat to make sure that nobody noticed him sleeping. Then he noticed the balled up piece of paper. Picking it up, he unfolded it. _You're invisible._ His mind barely registered the arrow pointing to the result. _You'll make an awesome spy._ He picked up his pencil and scribbled down his reply.

Gilbert picked up the balled up paper that his buddy thrown at him. Unfurling it, a smirk came onto his face at Mathew's rather short and blunt reply. '_I'm not invisible'? Sure…_ He wrote down his thoughts and threw it into Matt's head.

Said boy jerked in his seat when he felt the paper bounce off his head. Grumbling to himself, he leaned over and picked the paper up from the ground and opened it. _'Prove it'? Fine, I'll prove it!_ The Canadian boy scribbled down a list and threw it back to the Prussian.

_Angola? Armenia? Bosnia and Herzegovina? Kazakhstan? Kosovo? Morocco? What the hell? Who the hell are they?_ His eyes rested on the sentence at the end of the list. _They actually remember my name on the first try._ Bright red eyes rolled when he read that.

He managed to catch the crumpled up paper before it hit him due to the fact that he looked over to Gil to see what was taking him so long. Opening up the letter, a frown marred features. _People that he actually knows…?_ With a bit of thought on Matt's part, he managed to send the paper back.

Gilbo didn't know whether to laugh or pull the poor boy into a hug. _'Well, there's you and Viet… okay. Shut up. I'm invisible.'_ He snorted through his nose as he scribbled down a short sentence.

'_It's okay. Even if you are invisible, I still think you're awesome.'_ His face burned, bad. He must have looked like he just got a serious sunburn on his face, and it felt like that too. Gilbert never throws the word 'awesome' around carelessly. With a trembling hand, he wrote down his reply: _Thanks, Gilbo. So you want me to be invisible or something? Want to keep me all to yourself huh?_ He stared blankly at the last sentence he just wrote. It sounded a bit… odd. Well, it's supposed to be a joke. _Oh well, he'll just tease me about being a pansy again or something._ He sent the letter on its way.

And that was the last time he saw the paper.

* * *

This was his first time making cookies, which was highly embarrassing, somebody his age making cookies for the first time. A bit sad if you asked him. Now, he just has to hope that Gilbert wouldn't figure it out.

The small Canadian boy paced around in his brother's apartment, waiting for the _ding_ of the oven. There's been something that's been nagging at his mind, slowly chewing at it and picking at it as it festers and pusses over and oozes into the rest of his body, slowly influencing his actions to this very point. Yes, there was something he had to do.

He crouched next to the oven, ignoring the heat waves that bounced off his face, and just inspected the maple cookies that he was making. The loud _ding_ caused him to jump and tumble over. Pushing himself back up, Mathew stared at the timer. He added a lot more maple than the recipe called for. Was the inside still gushy or anything?

There wasn't any time left to bake. He could hear his brother talking from outside the window. Never has he been so happy with the American's big, loud, and obnoxious mouth. And never has he actually broken into his brother's apartment just to use the stove! ... Well, until today.

Pushing his square glasses back up onto his nose, he hastily pulled the cookies out of the burning oven, desperately trying to ignore how his arms shook like a leaf. He set it onto the cooling rack (that he had previously set up) with a loud clatter that made him wince.

_Oh crap, oh crap._ Alfred's voice stopped talking. _Oh crap, oh crap._ His head whipped from side to side, blonde hair flapping all over the place. _Where is he? Where is he!?_ "K-Kumahiro!?" _I left him on the couch last time, didn't I?!_ "Kumahiro!?" _Or did I leave him back at the dorm? _"Kumahiro!"

"Who?"

_Where's that voice coming from?_ His head whipped around with such ferocity that his glasses almost flew off his face. "Kumajiro!"

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt something heavy sit onto his foot. Looking down, a smile blessed his features. He bent down and picked up his polar bear. "There you are! I was looking for you!" He gently flicked the bear's nose.

With newfound speed and strength, Matt turned into a red and yellow blur as he sped around the apartment, stuffing pots and pans (he'll come back later to clean them up) underneath sofas and into closets. Giving the cookies one last gust of cool air, he wrapped them up into aluminum foil before shoving them into his hoodie's pocket. When he finally left the place, it was cleaned up, all traces gone like he was never there.

The key jiggled in its slot before the door popped open with a small _click_. Whistling a tune under his breath, Alfred pocked the key before kicking the door shut. It automatically locked with a slam.

Strolling father into his pad, Alfred had the prickling feeling that something wasn't right. What was wrong? Blue eyes narrowed as he scanned the place. _Doesn't look like anything's wrong._ The carefree American discarded his previous thoughts as he plopped down onto the nearby couch. That's when it hit him. _Was somebody making cookies in here or something?_

_

* * *

_

"Mattie! Mattie! Mattie!" He yelled in blithe as he punctuated each yell with a loud pound to the door. "This is so not cool! You can't keep the awesome me waiting!"

Curses floated through his blonde head as he hurried around his place, trying quite hard to make the cookies look presentable at least. A sour word slipped out when he heard the thud of a cookie dropping to the floor. Before he could even pick it up, a fluffy bear named Kumajiro came and gobbled the thing down before wandering away.

"Mattie! This isn't cool! You can't keep the awesomeness that is me contained. I know you're in there! You never go out this late!"

_I never go out this late? What the hell Gil?_ The lone curl of his twitched as if it had a life all of its own.

"Come on, _Maddie_. Let me in~"

He hated that name. He had made it very apparent when he had challenged Gilbo to a game of hockey and used it as an excuse to pummel him into tomorrow. He sighed through his nose at the memory of the day. It was the first day he actually beat the German at anything, but because Gilbert is… Gilbert, he purged himself of the thoughts. It was like the day never happened.

"Mattie, come on! Seriously, let me in."

A silly little smile threatened to appear.

"Mattie! I'll break the door down!"

_He wouldn't._ The Canadian consoled himself as he made a flying start for the door. _What am I talking about? This is Gilbert. Of course he would._

"Five…"

_Holy shit._

"Four…"

_Wait, wait, wait!_

"Three…"

_I'm not going to make it._

"Two…"

_How am I going to pay for the door repairs?_

"One…"

_Would he help me pay the bills?_

"Zero!"

"No, wait! Stop!" He screamed as he jerked the door open. The first thing he saw was Gilbert's carmine eyes wide in shock and then he was down. They were both down.

He saw those little stars that span around his head like a merry-go-round. _I thought that only happens in cartoons._ Another body had knocked his down, knocked it down like it was bowling pins. His head swam, incoherent sentences floating around in his head like a lava lamp, as his body tried to adjust to the weight that was laid flat on him. "Gil… you're heavy."

"Well, it's your fault for feeding me those pancakes twenty-four-seven." Mathew took special notice of the fact that the other male made no apparent move to remove himself from Mathew's person.

"I can't believe you were about to break my door down."

"I can't believe this position we're in."

The Canadian's face flushed, feeling his friend's warm breath on his face. "Can you ge—"

"Don't worry, I'll do it myself." He rolled off from his position on top of the Canadian, flattening the boy in the process. He ignored the small squeak he managed to elicit from the other boy. Jumping up to his feet, he dusted off the imaginary dust from his clothing before offering a hand to the man still down.

A grateful look overcame his violet eyes as he grabbed the extended hand and pulling himself up. He dusted himself off, and adjusted his glasses. The Prussian couldn't tear his eyes from the little curl bouncing up and down.

"Um," He started, Mathew's voice taking on its characteristic softness as he guided the door shut, "Uh, there's something in the kitchen for you. Before you can say anything, it's just for thanking you for tutoring me in my classes, watching out for me, and just being my best friend…"

He waited for that scornful reply about him being a lady, but it never came. "Gilbert?" Turning around, he wasn't surprised to see that Gibert exploring his kitchen.

A smile twitched at the corners of his lips as he watched the older man scarf down the cookies like an overzealous preacher teaching his ways. Indigo eyes met with crimson eyes before a large smirk broke out on Gilbert's face. "Come on! Don't you want some of this cookies that you made for the brilliantly awesome me?"

Mathew broke into a grin.

* * *

"This is a pretty awesome idea."

"Hmn?"

"I mean, pancake flavored cookies with a maple syrup filling? It's almost as awesome as I am!"

A small chuckle shook the blonde's chest. "Thanks, Gil."

"It's seriously awesome though! It tastes exactly like pancakes, but you can bring it anywhere with you without making a gigantic fucking mess!"

"Wait, does that mean you'll finally give up on pancakes?" Mathew asked from where he sat, snuggled up against the silverette's side.

Alarm became an overpowering wave that flooded through the silver haired man's body causing him to swiftly punch his friend. "Don't kid around like that! It's not funny! Of course I'm not. Nothing can replace pancakes!" He looked down to fix the blonde with a penetrating death glare, but those large violet eyes, they stopped him. The glare faltered and died on him. Dang it.

The punch hurt, but Mathew didn't make a big deal out of it. The German was just kidding around with him after all. A chuckle bubbled out of his throat when Gilbert broke eye contact. He nestled his head on the other male's shoulder. "Gilbert… you're awesome."

"Yeah. I know. Thanks." _You're awesome too._

_

* * *

_

_Notes:  
1) Angola. Armenia. Bosnia and Herzegovina. Kazakhstan. Kosovo. Morocco. - Actual countries that have actual relations to Canada :)  
Random:  
1) There's a New Prussia in Canada. 8D Love, love, love, love, love.  
2) I'm a PruCan fan in case you haven't noticed. Make me happy. Spread the love. Yeah... _


	6. Take Me To Your Leader :KoreaxChina:

_AN: Whee~ Chapter six is here! I wanted to write another PruCan, but two same pairings in one row is a no-no. The next one might be a PruCan one or it'll be a 'make-Latvia-cry' chapter. Latvia is such a cute character. 8D  
Warning: KoreaxChina_

_

* * *

He sat on the farthest corner of his bed; so far off the corner that half of his rump was hanging off the side. His back settled against the wall as he hugged the pillow closer to his chest. Fear was mixed in with wide cocoa-brown eyes as he watched Yao study him intently, a dull glint in his eyes._

"Did the movie scare you that much, aru?" The Chinaman questioned, climbing up onto his bed. He patted to the empty spot next to him. "Get away from there and come sleep. I moved our beds together." _Since it seems like you won't be sleeping by yourself for a while._

Im Yong Soo tips his head to the side slightly as he stares at Yao. His gaze trails to the area next to his roommate's bed and he slowly unfurls like a night-blooming cereus. Dragging the pillow behind him, he scoots over to Yao until he was _way_ too close for the other man's liking.

Minutes of seriously awkward silence descended before somebody broke the silence. "… Stop looking at me like that." Yao stated a bit louder than he meant when the Korean wouldn't stop staring at him with those huge, accusing eyes. "I told you that you might not be able to handle the movie, aru."

"You didn't tell me that, you didn't tell me that!" He whined as he let himself lay down onto the bed. He curled up into a tight ball, still clutching to the pillow with white hands. Yao could just see that curl protruding out of his black hair frowning at him. "You just said that there was blood and aliens and… stuff. You didn't say anything else."

Yao sighed as he got underneath the blankets. "I thought that the summary, title, screenshots, and the rating would give you that, aru. Apparently I was wrong." Small grunts escaped past Yao's parted lips as he tugged the other half of the blanket out from underneath Yong Soo's body. He draped them over the younger male's curled body. "Good night, aru."

"Good night, Yao. Don't turn off the l—"

The light in the room disappeared and then there was a scream so loud it could be heard throughout the whole entire college. Then another scream was heard after the first one. The lamp lighted up the room and both men stared at each other, panting and wide eyed.

"What the _hell_, aru!?"

He could control his temper; he couldn't control his temper. Wait, he could control his temper, why else the reason for the entire uptight upbringing that his parents forced upon him? _Deep breathes._ He told himself when the overwhelming urges to smother his roommate with the pillow hit him.

Random mixtures of Korean and English babbled out of his mouth as the room span and span in his eyes. "That's how she died! The lights went out and then she was dead with a machete in her head!" More random words of his first language came out.

The words were coming out too quickly for Yao's inner Korean to understand. "Im Yong Soo," He started. Said man stopped jabbering and just stared at Yao with a pitiful kicked-puppy look. "It's just a movie, aru. Calm down."

"I know, but still…"

"Just try to get some sleep, aru. We have a test tomorrow. I'll keep some of the lights on, aru." With that said, the Chinese man flipped over to his side, back towards his bedmate, and closed his eyes.

Yong Soo still sat up in bed, warily eyeing all those odd shapes that danced on the walls. He didn't trust those shadows one bit… Giving the room one last check-up, he claimed his spot by Yao's side and pressed himself flush against the smaller male's back. It wasn't often that he's allowed to even hug the man let alone sleep in the same bed. Of course he's not going to let it pass him by. A small smile adorned his face as he felt a sense of blissful safety wrap itself around him. Maybe he should watch horror movies more often.

* * *

Yao was roused out of his light slumber by rustling. _What's Yong Soo doing at this time?_ He wondered to himself through the sleepy haze that surrounded his mind. _He's not still awake is he?_ "Yong Soo? Is that you, aru? What are you doing?"

He was aware of the rustling that stopped as soon as the question left his mouth. He waited in silence for a reply, but one never came. Questions burned themselves into his mind. _This isn't Yong Soo. He's too quiet._ "Who are you, aru? How'd you get in the room?"

Admittedly, Yao was handling this situation better than he would have thought. No freakishly girly and high-pitched screaming escaped his lips, but he wasn't frozen solid in fear like Mathew with his first Gilbert break-in (Poor kid couldn't sleep by himself for a week after that). Nothing went through his head, and he was aware of it. He noticed a lot of things that he never noticed before at the moment. Like how that mirror had a little streak mark from where Im Yong Soo crashed into it a week ago. An almost intoxicating and docile calm settled itself in his heart. _Is this what it feels like to be enlightened?_

Leaning over to the side, Wang Yao groped for the light switch (he turned off the lights when Yong Soo went to sleep), but a warm hand caught his wrist. A wave of recognition flooded his body. He recognized that grip on his wrist. He held onto his wrist so often that Yao's body actually registered the touch. It was Yong Soo. "Im Yong Soo?"

No response.

"Im Yong Soo." Yao hissed, trying to catch a glimpse of the man's face. Were his eyes glazed over? Was that awkward curl of his limp?

A low murmuring of Korean confirmed his suspicions; the energetic male was sleepwalking… again.

_What to do with him...? _He scrambled out of his bed and rubbed the rest of the sleep from his eyes. The grip on his wrist never slacked. Dragging the taller male around, Yao traveled about in their room, searching for a glass of water. Well, he was until he was suddenly scooped up.

"_Aiyah!_ What are you doing, aru!?"

"… Kidnap the princess…"

"What!?"

"... Where's the Mothership?"

"What are you talking about, aru!? Snap out of it!"

"… Da-ze!"

That caught him off guard. He was only able to let out a small '_whut_' before he was whisked off and out of their room. Now that left him in a panic. "Aiyah! The door! It's not closed, aru!" He wailed with outstretched arms that were reaching for the door as it slowly became smaller and smaller.

* * *

If there was one thing that Wang Yao learned from all the times he spent in the eccentric Yong Soo's presence, it was to never fight against a sleepwalking person. No good could come out of it (some sleepwalking people are homicidal). Well, that's what he told himself over and over and over again as he's being carried off by the Korean in the most degrading way.

Honestly, he would have preferred to be carried bridal style than like this. But Yong Soo always knows how to get on his nerves, even when he was asleep. So if anybody asks why he's thrown over the other male's shoulder in only boxers and a white t-shirt, they'll know why.

Arms crossed over in front of his chest and propped up on the male's shoulder, he thought about what he should do. It's pretty obvious that there is no way that they'll make it back to their room before he snaps out of it, so he's probably going to have to carry Yong Soo back.

The blood in his body drained from his face. Pushing back a free lock of raven-black hair, Yao looked over his shoulder at Yong Soo. He sighed through his nose. There's no doubt about it, Korea gained weight. He sighed through his nose again. _I wonder how the test is going to go tomorrow, aru._

He was jolted out of his thoughts when his capturer abruptly halted in the middle of the hallway. An eyebrow rose into an arch and lips parted to ask a question, but a foreign tongue interrupted.

Yao had no idea what Yong Soo was saying. He also had no idea what was going through the younger male's head, but he had a theory. _Where was this scene in the movie? It's after they smuggle the princess and run, aru._ He watched as Yong Soo waved his free arm around frantically, trying to make his point to a person in his imagination. _This is the guard scene._

He bit back an 'aiyah' when his smuggler suddenly whipped around and sprinted, dodging those imaginary guards that tried to stop him. Pushing back the free lock of hair that fell into his face, he wondered how long it would be before the boy snapped out of it.

It was then that he remembered. _The test! I have a test in the morning, aru! Shit…_ He cast a glance over his shoulder at the still sleepwalking Im Yong Soo. "Arugh…" _I should get some sleep, aru. This will be over before I know it, aru. You need to get some sleep to prepare for the test, aru. I wonder when he'll wake up, aru… Just go to sleep…_

He fell asleep.

* * *

The first thing he could hear was sweet giggles. The first thing he could sense was warmth all around him, cradling him close. The first thing he could feel was white cotton that was fisted into his hands. The first thing that he could see were bright expressive brown eyes that stared down at him with a look of utter euphoria. It was then Yao realized whose eyes those were.

"_Aiyah!_ Yong Soo!? What are you doing, aru?!"

A careless shrug was his response. "When I woke up, you were like this."

For some reason, Yao had a hard time believing him.

He struggled and squirmed in the Korean's lap as he struggled to upright himself. He wasn't able to and sat back down into his lap. It was then he noticed those arms wrapped around his waist. "Let me up, aru."

"I'll let you get up if you do something for me first, _Aniki_."

The Chinaman should have seen that coming, so why did he roll his eyes? "Nothing lewd, aru." He fixed the Korean with a strict gaze. "And I mean it."

"It's nothing lewd, I promise! Just a kiss on the lips! Please?"

With that heartbreaking kicked-puppy look on his face, China found it hard to say no. "You're such a child, aru." He murmured under his breath as he leaned towards the other's lips.

"Da-ze!"

* * *

_AN: I have no idea what movie they were watching.  
Random:  
1) When you're sleepwalking, your eyes may be open, but the expression is dim and glazed over.  
2) Some sleepwalking activities include (but are not limited to): Sitting up in bed, walking to the bathroom, cleaning, cooking, driving, violent gestures, homicide, moaning, talking, gesturing, and grabbing at apparently hallucinated objects. :)  
3) Korea seems like a person who would get scared easily. Is it just me or what? _


	7. Relations :PruCan:

_AN: I'm a big huge sucker for PruCan apparently. Ho crap! Today is Gil's birthday (January 18th) apparently. -heart-  
Warning: PruCan-ness, and France _

_

* * *

He may just be at his second year here at this school, but already his name held special meaning. There wasn't anybody who didn't know who he was or who the 'Bad Friends Trio' were. From the moment he set foot into the school grounds, he looked to Francis and Antonio and said, "I'm going to become a legend here."_

Nobody could miss Gilbert Beilschmidt even if they tried. His exotic last name, his infamous catchword, his bright crimson eyes, his shock of pale silver hair, and his mischievous smirk caused most people to flock to him in the first minute he set foot on the school grounds.

And if him being an albino wasn't enough, on April First, he wrote his name into the school's legends in permanent marker. He hacked into the school's website and transformed it into his blog. The school's website is still the albino's blog to this very day. He refused to hand it back and forced the school to set up a new website (they couldn't expel him, he was too much of an asset to the school).

_And that's what made him this school's idol._ Mathew Williams told himself. A nudge to the shoulder brought him out of his thoughts and to the moment at hand. A shy and sheepish smile gave way as the Canadian watched, through violet eyes, the school's star fumble around with his phone, trying to get a shot of them together. "Gil, do you need help?"

"No," Came the reply in a gruff manner as the German struggled to take a proper picture with his new phone. He twisted his hand into an odd angle and snapped a picture. Taking a look at the new picture, he let out a groan of frustration. "This phone is so not awesome." He deleted the picture. He tried again with a different angle. "Sheesh. Did that bear of yours have to use my phone as a chew toy?"

"I told you not to leave it there."

He shot the replier a quick glare before snapping a shot. "They said that the phone wouldn't be ready for pick up for another week." He took a look at the picture. He deleted it. "The photos aren't awesome, thus, this phone isn't awesome."

A small chuckle caused the blonde's shoulder to shake. "I wouldn't know, Gil. You're not letting me see them."

The corner of the silverette's lip twitched into a lightning quick… smirk? Sneer? Mathew couldn't tell for sure. "Well, yeah. You should see awesome photos, not these half-assed crap."

"I'm pretty sure they're better than what I can do."

"Yeah, probably, but these don't meet Prussian requirements. So you can't see them."

"Thanks for the self-confidence boast."

"You're welcome."

The two looked at each other, and it took quite a bit to suppress that flicker of surprise that came across the quiet boy when he saw that bizarre emotion that was floating around in those red eyes. It looked so out of place, but at the same time it just seemed to belong there.

He was snapped out of his daydream when Gilbert leaned just the slightest bit closer. He soon found that he was all too powerless to stop the faint burning of his cheeks, especially when Gil smiled.

"Where you _entranced_ by my awesomeness?"

No response, just a more acute burning sensation that spread to his ears.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about. You were bound to be sooner or later." He murmured, leaning forward until their foreheads were almost touching…

And that was when Mathew 'accidently' uppercut Gil's chin. Friendship with a cocky albino is such a beautiful thing.

* * *

He was a freshman, and that was all he was. He wasn't special and there was nothing that helped him stand out amongst the other fishes. He was unnoticeable and overshadowed by his twin brother, who was older just by a bit. Nobody knew that Francis, another one of the school's idols, was the one who managed his upbringing for the most part. Nobody knew that Gilbert, the infamous Gilbert B., was his best friend. From the moment he set foot onto the school grounds, he looked down to Kumajiro and said, "My name is Mathew."

Nobody could notice Mathew Williams even if they looked at him for an hour. His common last name, his quiet demeanor, his dull violent eyes, his wavy blonde hair with the curl, and his arms that seemed to clutch at its owner desperately when they weren't holding Kumajiro, this caused him to blend into the background or get mistaken for Alfred, his brother.

Those few friends that he did have, they always forgot him or mistook him for his brother. Francis, the very man who raised him, would occasionally forget his name, but he wouldn't mistake him for Alfred. Alfred would sometimes forget his name too or not see him. Cuba has never been able to realize that the Canadian wasn't his American brother until Cuba has hit him at least once. Then all the others, they didn't even know he existed until something points him out.

_I felt bad for him. That's why we were friends in the first place._ Gilbert tries to tell himself as he's surfing through his old freshman scrapbook. The only pictures he could find were of him and Mattie, Mattie and him. There were a few of Gilbird and Kumajiro, but those were rare at best.

A finger points to the first picture (placed on the last page of the book) and his eyes track it back to its owner. There's a smile in his eyes at the look on his guest's face and he looks at the photo.

"Hey, that was the April First you hacked the school's website, right?"

"Yeah. That was an awesome day. It was also the day you came to my dorm with a bottle of maple syrup as a present."

"Ha ha, I remember. You were eating wurst and Kumahiro invited himself to your snack."

"Ha. Ha." Gilbert laughed in his sarcastic way as he rolled his eyes. "You still owe me a wurst by the way."

His shoulder bumped into the wall when Mathew nudged him a bit too hard. He didn't say anything, but smile. He's the only one who Mathew is even willing to stand up to, no matter how little the act of defiance is.

"I don't owe you anything. I helped you pay off all those panda plushies you bought."

Ouch. That hurt. He did not need to be reminded how easily he succumbed to those lifeless beady black eyes, the soft and fluffy texture of the cloth, or how squishy and fluffy the plushie was. It was not manly and thus it was not awesome.

A pale and slender finger pointed to another picture. "Hey, Gilbo." He winced, but he didn't show it. That nickname (no matter how endearing) just wasn't one of his favorites. "When was this picture? I don't remember you taking this one." Mathew said.

A smirk was present on his pale face before he even knew it was there. "That," He started. Taking Mathew's hand into his own, he removed it from the book and dropped it into the Canadian's lap. "You don't need to know." He closed the book.

Mattie just gave him an odd look, but he didn't say anything when he shoved the scrapbook back into the desk. Friendship with that unnoticeable Canadian was beautiful.

* * *

"Gilbert~!"

From where he sat propped up by the tree trunk, he could see the faint outline of a Frenchman skipping towards him. "Hey, Francis." He gave him a curt wave before setting about devouring the rest of the pancake lunch that Mathew made for him.

A wide and slightly lecherous (he can't help it, it's just what he face looks like) grin on his face and hands behind his back, Francis strolled up to where the German was seated. He invited himself to sit down next to the eating male.

"Mathieu made you lunch again today?"

The question was innocent enough, but knowing Francis quite well, the Prussian was on his guard. He shifted his position in the grass so that his body blocked the majority of his lunch from prying eyes. There was something of a mumbled, "Yes," as Gilbert scarfed down his food.

Undaunted by the hostile display of territorial hostility regarding the lunch, the Frenchman scooted closer, a lot closer than necessary. "So, how long has little Mathieu been making your lunch?"

_Where's he going with that?_ Oh how he wished that Antonio was here to distract the pervert, but alas he was somewhere with Lovino during heaven-knows-what. "Maybe a month… or two." _Or three…_

"_Mon Dieu_!" He slapped his hand across his open mouth in feigned surprise. It didn't fool Gilbert for one moment.

"What?"

"_Êtes-vous deux de sortir_?"

"… English."

"… Nah. It's not important. There's no way you two are like that." He said coyly as he slowly turned away from the Prussian's searing gaze. A moving figure clad in a bright red hoodie caught his attention. It waved to him. He waved back.

"_Bonjour_, Mathieu!" He called out, a hand cupping his mouth as the other helped him get up.

His eyes narrowed into slits and that infamous grin of his was on his face. He jabbed his friend hard in the arm. "Ha. That's not going to wo—"

"_Bonjour_, Francis!" Came the faraway voice of Mathew attracting the attention of said man and a Prussian's.

Francis watched in blatant amusement at the different and conflicting emotions that seemed to fight for dominance in Gilbert's two crimson eyes. He had to cover his mouth in case a chuckle escaped when Gilbert just resorted to shoving the rest of his lunch into his mouth.

It wasn't long until Mathew was within grasp so that was why Francis grabbed hold of the younger one's hand and placed a kiss onto it. He didn't miss the look of utter annoyance that was on the silverette's face.

Five minutes of mindless chitchat passed before Francis decided to excuse himself. Pushing back some more of his blonde hair to their rightful place behind his ear, he said pleasant goodbyes and walked over to give Mathew a hug. He then strolled over to where Gilbert stayed seated and squatted down.

"Bye."

"Goodbye, Gilbert. And just a word of advice…" He made a great deal of checking left and right to make sure nobody was listening before leaning forward and softening his voice.

"I advice you to find out how you feel about my little Mathieu, okay?" Smile on face, he ruffled up white hair before getting up. "_Au revoir_!" He stated quickly, right before Gilbert could say anything. Francis gave Mathew a smile before leaving.

There was no doubt about it. Those two were like flowers. They could grow on their own, but they might not grow in the proper way. So that's why you have the gardener. Now, guess who the gardener is…

* * *

_Translations:  
1) Mon Dieu - My God in French  
2) Êtes-vous deux de sortir? - Are you two going out in French  
3) Bonjour, __Au revoir_ - Hello in French, Good bye in French  
Random:  
1) I noticed that I've been spelling Mathew's name differently from how it's actually spelled. 8D;; The 'official' spelling is with two 'T's, but I only spell it with one.  
Responses:  
Sightlines: XD Thank you~ Thank you~ Did you notice that in most PruCan fics, the relationship officially starts with Gil breaking into Mattie's house? 


	8. Happy Birthday, Gil

_AN: I love today. I have no school, it's Martin Luther King Jr. Day, and Gilbert's birthday. So jam-packed with 'action.'  
Warning: Gil-centric, PruCan? Maybe? Yes? No?_

* * *

Today was an utterly awesome day and he was suffering through shock because the people that actually matter actually forgot (Seriously, how could they!). He knew it was a bad idea to go light on the flyers this year. He blames Antonio. The boy said everybody was sure to remember this day when it came.

Illegal thoughts bounced around in the dark abyss he calls his mind as he trudged through the crowded hallways alone with only a little yellow pom-pom as company.

Everybody was too busy preparing for the school's talent show (who has more talent than Gilbert?) to be spending time with their favorite Prussian (and the only Prussian they do know). The only thing worthwhile to wake up to was Kumajiro's fuzzy butt in his face and than two stacks of five pancakes instead of the usual one stack.

His birthday was off to a _great_ start.

* * *

It was only in first period that he realized that his Canadian didn't say, "Happy Birthday" to him. That irked him off. Sure he did make him an extra stack of pancakes (with lots and lots of maple syrup), but he didn't hear what he wanted to hear the most coming out of the blonde's mouth. Which was _not_ (absolutely not) a love confession. Where Francis got that crazy idea is beyond him.

"H-Happy birthday, Gilbert!"

Lifting his head up from his arms, he gave his classmate (undeniably one of his fans) a smile and a polite 'thank you.' It was just another 'happy birthday.' The silverette appreciated it, but it wasn't from those close to him.

He settled his head back into his arms, he didn't need to look at her face to know that it was beet red and she was running off to go tell her friends. It always happened this way.

The birthday prince slept the rest of the class period away.

* * *

Physical education was one of his favorite classes. Not because he got to show off his skills, but because he was able to talk to his friends without getting detention or Saturday school. Well, that and Gilbo could curse and swear and everybody would say, "Oh. He's just too into the game."

As he stood by his locker, he couldn't help, but feel that small twinge of… something. It was the same something that he felt when he saw Elizabeta and Roderich together on Christmas.

Looking around his locker, he noticed the lack of blonde heads. Slipping the P.E. shirt over his head, he slapped his locker shut. "Hey," He nudged some guy he recognized to be in his class. "Did you see the blonde that usually changes around here?"

"A blonde?"

"Yeah, a blonde. Wears glasses, his hair is kinda long, there's this jacked up curl, and he carries a bear with him sometimes. Seen him?"

"Oh! Him! Yeah, he already changed."

"Oh…" _That's weird._ "Thanks." _He usually waits for me if he finishes dressing first._ He barely heard the 'No problem' as he headed for the exit to the locker room.

That guy in the locker room was right, he could see the nervous blonde standing a bit faraway from everybody else. Gilbert kept on staring at him, willing him to look in his direction, but it seemed like the blonde was taking deliberate action to avoid him. That bothered him.

Then cheering erupted everywhere.

"Yes, no conditioning!"

"I haven't played soccer in such a long time!"

Gilbert didn't pay too much attention to what they said. He was only conscious of the coach reading off people's names and telling them what team they're in. Mathew isn't in the same team as him.

Sigh.

_It's just a small set-back, I'll still be able to talk to him. It'll just to harder._ The Prussian jogged over to his position.

It wasn't even five minutes into the game when Mathew was sent to the nurse's office.

He was standing around in the sidelines, watching his teammates as they got closer and closer to the goal when there was a loud "_Watch out!_" The next thing the Prussian knew, the blonde suffered a direct hit to the face and his glasses went flying. Gilbert tried his hardest not to smile.

The blonde got up relatively quickly (something expected from a hockey player) and excused himself to the nurse's office after picking up his miraculously unbroken glasses.

Everybody forgot about the Canadian a bit after he disappeared from sight. Well, except for a certain albino who kept throwing glances at the direction Mattie went off.

* * *

Gilbert wasn't too surprised to see that the injured man was missing from his third period class. The nurse probably freaked out about the boy's injury (like she usually does) and sent him back to the dorms after giving him an ice pack. Which would be the reason why Mathew has so many ice packs at his place.

Claiming his usual spot, he dumped his backpack to the ground before propping his feet onto the desk. Leaning backwards, he blinked up at the face that was staring down at him.

"Elizabeta? What are you doing here?"

There was a cough from beside her, and Gil craned his neck to see who it was. "Oh, hey Roderich." He turned away before he could see the look of utter disgust the Austrian gave him.

Skipping into proper frontal view of Gilbert, she held down the long skirt she wore and took a seat right there on the bare table, taking care to avoid sitting on his legs. She folded her hands in her lap and stared at him, a petite smile gracing her features.

He slowly removed his legs from on top of the table, feeling a bit too vulnerable like that. "What?"

"Happy birthday, Gilbert. From me and Roderich."

"Oh, thanks. You two are some of my only friends that remembered."

"Oh, that's not true!" Elizabeta said with a chuckle as she playfully nudged Gil's shoulder. "Here, there's something for you." Bending over, she stuck two fingers into her boot and pulled out a card. She handed it over to the albino. "It's from Francis and Antonio."

"Huh, obviously." One eye narrowed slightly and a small smirk played at the corners of his lips as he inspected the card. _Red hearts and tomatoes. They're so original._ "I'll read it later." He placed it into his pocket. "You didn't read any of it, did you?"

"None of it!"

"Roderich?"

"… Maybe just the first paragraph or two."

"Roderich!" She snapped, delivering a swift (and painful) punch to her companion's arm. "Don't' tell him that!" She hissed, her expressive eyes narrowing into slits. "Well, now that you know, who's Mathieu?"

"Francis talked about him?"

"Yep! Who is he?"

"… Just a special friend."

* * *

The rest of the day passed by with ease. A lot of people (most of whom he didn't recognize) congratulated him on his birth and some even gave him presents. Hell, this one girl actually gave him a pound of chocolate (talk about scoring).

The people he called 'friends' or 'close friends' ran up to him during lunch (they all knew where he sat for lunch) to sing him Happy Birthday albeit a bit off key and awkward in general. Feliciano was _way_ too into singing it, Ludwig just looked like he was ready to blow from embarrassment, and Alfred kept messing up the lyrics. Man, these were the people he cared about.

Carrying all the presents he received in the grocery bags, graciously provided by Yao, he made his way over to the Canadian's room, a cocky smirk on his face. _Man, day started off waaaay slower than I wanted. _He looked at the gifts he received. The smirk grew even larger. _But it was totally worth it._

_Though there's somebody who still owes me…_ The smile slowly turned into a terse frown as he stared at the silver metal plate with the numbers '8-1-4.' _Stupid Mattie better give me a fucking good reason why he never said, "Happy Birthday."_ He kicked the door open.

Confetti of different colors was blown into his face with a loud _bang_ and an even louder chorus of '_Surprise!_' He staggered backwards, face blank except for the look of utter confusion. Oh how Mattie wished he had a camera to take a picture of that look.

He stepped forward, "Happy birthday, Gil." Offering Gil a massive stack of pancakes slathered in thick maple syrup.

Dropping the bags of gifts, Gil stepped forward, a soft look in his eyes. He accepted Mattie's gift with a huge smile. "Huh… thanks, Mattie." He started, staring appreciatively at the giant stack. "This has to be the most awesome birthday ever." Red eyes met with violet ones. "And you look really weird with that ice pack wrapped to your cheek."

_

* * *

_

Random:  
1) I got Mathew's room number from how many fics there were with Prussia and Canada (81) and how many pages of results there were (4). Yay.


	9. Family :SuFin:

_AN: So, when was the last time I updated? A week ago? I don't know. Written upon request~ I won't be putting down Sweden's translations. He talks quite a bit. Huh. Would anybody believe me if I said that my big toe has been swollen since winter break? D:  
Warnings: SuFin (Sweden/Finland)_

_

* * *

_

It's was days like this when it made him glad that he was a child and thus, didn't have to grow up. Peter watched as both of his parents _clicked_ and _clacked_ away at their personal laptops, trying to keep up with the project's deadlines. He returned his attention back to _his_ project at the moment. Oh boy was he happy that nobody was grading it.

What was originally supposed to be a working spaceship (he was going to get the firecrackers from Alfred) made from Legos, looked more like a house made of Legos. Honestly, how does something like this happens is beyond him.

"Papa, are you sure you can't help me?"

"Yeah. Busy."

"Would you help me if I said it was homework?"

The little boy marveled at how his Papa managed to look at him (albeit with something like a glare), but managed to keep his fingers moving on the keyboard. His Mama couldn't do it no matter how hard he tried.

"Is i' hom'wor'?"

"Um," He reached out, plucking up Hanatamago from her spot by Tino's foot and plopped her onto his lap. "No, not really."

Berwald's eyes set back onto the computer screen. "I'l hel' 'en I'm don'."

"But Papa~" He whined, stroking the puppy's silky fur. Before another peep could be made, the father figure gave him _this look_ that just caused his voice to shut down. It was like the time when the lightening struck the lines and caused the electricity to shut down suddenly. Peter was so freaked out that he couldn't talk and had to sleep with his parents.

"Jus' 'nother pa'ra'gr'ph."

"Okay, Papa! What about you Ma… ma?" Words trailed off as Peter watched the other, a look of utter worry on that baby face of his. The Finnish boy certainly didn't seem like his counterpart at the moment. His eyes were red and if Peter looked carefully, there was a slight squint in them. That was never a good sign. Slender fingers pecked at different keys at a breakneck pace. Violet eyes met with blue and Tino cracked a smile.

It kinda scared Peter.

"I'll help you after I'm done, okay?"

"Okay…" Peter went back to playing with the block pieces, a fluffy Hanatamago sleeping in his lap.

* * *

Berwald sat on the floor, Hanatamago trying to engage him in a small game of tag, as he fiddled around with the small blocks. "Whe' oth' piec'?" He questioned in the thick accent that even four years of intensive speech therapy didn't cure.

The blonde scattered the pieces next to him as he searched for the one Berwald was talking about. A small 'Ah' escaped his lips when he spied it and he tried to toss it into the older man's open palm. He failed.

Nobody spoke and nobody made a move. The only sound was the clacking of the tumbling piece. Well, that was the only sound until Peter sighed and flopped onto the ground. He gently grabbed the sides of Hanatamago and dragged her to him. He laid his head in her fur.

"Papa?"

"Hmn."

"Why did Mama go into the study room? Why couldn't he stay here and help?"

Berwald pushed his glasses up farther onto his nose. He continued fumbling with the handle made of Legos before he answered, "Tino's bus'y." The simple answer seemed to curb the boy's curiosity.

"Oh… _OUCH!_" He yelped, bolting straight up and covering his nose. The handle dropped to the ground with a clatter and in less than a split second, Berwald was prying Peter's small hands from his nose. Hanatamago dashed off and out of the room.

"She bit me…"

"I tol' yo' no' t' pu' you' 'ace clos' t' 'er 'outh." He chided, with a gentle hand, he twisted the child's head to the side. Peter, by now, was sweating bullets and quite embarrassed. His Papa is just way to protective sometimes and it didn't help that his Mama encouraged it. And they wonder why he never brings his friends over for sleepovers.

There was a sigh of relief from the big man and he pulled back. "You' no' ble'din'."

"Yeah," He rubbed his nose. "She didn't bite me too hard or anything. " His fingers brushed over a small little imprint of a tooth. "Just hard enough to leave a mark though."

Peter could clearly see the furrow of his eyebrows and he knew that his Papa was thinking. What he was thinking about, he didn't like. "Papa!" He whined as the Sweden got up and started heading for the kitchen. "You don't have to get the first aid or anything!" Berwald disappeared into the kitchen. "Sheesh." _Can't you stop treating me like I'm two or something?_

* * *

He really had to fight his maternal instincts that were screaming at him to burst through the door decked out in a doctor's uniform with a first aid box in hand. He really had to fight, fight it so hard that he thought that he might rip out his hair. Maybe Berwald was right, maybe he was the female in this relationship.

But it was his baby boy that just screamed out in pain, but he couldn't do crap because he swore that he was going to stay in this room until he was finished with this part of the project. Tino has to set a good example; he can't go back on a promise! Or can he...? _No,_ absolutely cannot! But maybe a quick check up would be... "I hate being a mom."

His hair stood on end when large hands (larger than his at least) rested themselves on his shoulder. The Finnish male could just feel this aura coming off from who ever it was behind and it was a bit… freaky to be truthful. Well, until he heard the voice.

"Do yo' li' be'n' m' wife?"

Tino almost chuckled. "Don't joke around like that. I told you that I'm not your wife!"

"… Joke?"

Tino didn't need to look at Berwald to know that he was wearing that genuine kicked-puppy look… with a little bit of that darkness that the man just couldn't get rid of. He always wore that look whenever he said that word.

"No, no! I-I didn't mean it like that or anything!" He squealed as he frantically flapped his arms around for emphasis. "It's just, I mean, it's… j-just forget I said that." With a resigned sigh, he saved his document and closed the laptop. _I probably won't be working on it for a while._

"What are you doing in here anyways?"

"Rubb'r ban's."

_Rubber bands? Why would he need rubber bands for? Oh… don't tell me. _"You're not teaching Peter how to make a Lego gun are you?"

Berwald just pulled up a chair and sat down next to Tino. He refused to meet his eyes.

"Berwald." He had to fight to keep that whine out of his voice. He needed to sound professional. "He's only a child! You don't honestly think this is a good idea do you?"

There was a short-lived period of silence before he responded with one word, "Francis."

A small 'Oh' escaped his lips when he remembered the moment that the Swede was referring to. It was the time before they talked to Peter about stranger danger and Francis danger. Let's just say that both were very unhappy when they walked out of the house to see Francis luring their child away with candy. Berwald actually rushed back into the house, grabbed the first thing he could find, and started clobbering Francis with the water bottle.

After that, Tino took special precautions into telling Peter to stay away from him. It worked very well, especially when he told him that Francis ate little boys like him.

"Is the gun for you or for Peter?"

"… Peter."

Tino decided not to comment about the fact that he didn't sound too sure of himself. "Just make sure it's semi-automatic or manual, okay? The rubber bands are in the canister next to the bills."

"Al'ost don' wit' th' projec'?"

It took a bit for Tino to recover from the unexpected question, but he managed to shake his head. Turning his attention to the closed laptop, he flipped it open and double-clicked on the project. It opened to reveal how far Tino managed to get.

Berwald read through his project with a dour look. "Las' week."

"I know that we were supposed to be at this part last week."

"Wha' happ'n?"

Tino's face contorted into a scowl. Berwald decided against commenting on how cute he looked. "The other people in my group aren't doing anything! I have to do everything myself!"

"Jus' tal' t' tea'her."

"Um, about that. Can you come with me? She kind of… scares me."

The Sweden nodded.

* * *

"I'm sorry Tino, but I don't know what I can do. Why didn't you come to me with this earlier?"

"Because they were actually doing work earlier?"

There was a sigh from the woman behind the desk as she took the glasses off her face. She rubbed at her eyes idly before placing the spectacles back on. "Well, you can exile them from your group." She suggested.

"But then I would still be doing all the work on my own."

"How about talking to them?"

"I already tried that. Can't I go join another group?"

"I spilt everybody into equal groups already and we're too far into the project. And since everybody is doing it on the same thing, it wouldn't be fair to your host group."

Tino couldn't bring himself to keep looking into his professor's eyes. The only thing he could stare at was his shoe. They really needed a good scrubbing. "O-Oh… okay."

"Tino coul' jo'n m' gro'."

All eyes were on Berwald when he finally spoke up. Tino's violet eyes were wide with hope while the teacher's brown eyes were wide with shock. That must have been the first time he talked in her class. It took her awhile to figure out what he just said.

"Well, Berwald." She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes again. "I know you two are close friends, so you want to help him. But he can join your group if and only if everybody is okay with it." She looked him right in the eyes. "But you can't force anybody. It has to be their own decision."

At that last sentence, both students' spirits fell. Berwald had a certain Austrian in his group that just hated it when people mooched off of him. There was no way that he was going to let Tino move into his group when he was _this_ far behind.

The teacher gave both of them a sympathetic look as if she could tell what was going through their minds. "I'm sorry you two. I don't know what else to do."

"It's… okay. Thank you, Mrs. San Marino." With that said, the duo left the classroom and headed off to their third period class. Today was going to be a long day.

* * *

Tino sat, curled up, on the couch as he watched Peter trying to improve his aim by shooting down the cups. Berwald sat next to Tino, his head resting on the smaller male's shoulder and he gave the occasional advice to help Peter.

"Nobody is going to be eating me, right, Hanatamago!"

A playful growl was her answer as she chased off after the flying rubber bands that were far off from their targets. She chased after one particular one and picked it up into her jaw as it dropped to the ground. She gave it one quick shake of the head, her floppy eyes whipping about, before she dashed off with it in mouth.

"What!? Hanatamago! Come back with that! I need it!" He wailed as he ran off with her, his arm waving the Lego gun around.

Chuckles were heard from both Tino and Berwald at the sight, but then they settled back into a comfortable silence. It lasted one for a few moments before Tino spoke.

"Berwald," He started, successfully attracting the man's attention. "I don't know what I should do. This class is the only one where I have a B and if I can get an A on this project, it'll bring my grade up to the A." He laid his head on top of Berwald's. "Guess I won't be getting those straight A's."

The Swede took notice of how Tino's voice seemed to crack a little when he said the last sentence. He knew how much the blonde has been working hard to get those straight A's (he has been even before he entered high school) and that bothered him. Each year, each semester, there was always some outside force that interfered. This year, it was going to be positive.

Berwald abruptly stood up while Tino slide down and hit the sofa with a soft _pffph_. He stared up at the larger man, confusion in his violet eyes as Berwald strolled off and out of the room. "Berwald? Where are you going?" He called out as he propped himself up. There was something of a grunt in reply and Tino decided not to press anymore.

The blonde sat by himself for a little while before Berwald peeked into the room, one laptop in each hand.

"Berwald? What are you doing with those?"

"Helpin'." Was his answer as he strolled into the room and took his seat by Tino's side. He handed over Tino's possession while he turned his own. Violet eyes stared at the laptop in confusion, but he followed Berwald's example and turned his own on.

Digging into his pant's pocket, he pulled out his USB flash drive and plugged it into his computer. A large smile threatened to break out on Tino's face at the sight of that flash drive. Where Berwald got that tiny dog-bone shaped flash drive was beyond him. Though he had to admit, his flash drive wasn't too much better. A flash drive in the shape of a cross and was a necklace; he still didn't know where Denny got it from.

Whatever Berwald was loading into his flash drive, it was done. He handed it to Tino who accepted it and plugged it into his own computer. A frown appeared at the sight of the file. "Your project?"

Berwald nodded.

"Oh, Berwald." He sighed. "You're my friend, I can't do this! Your group might get really mad at you if they find out!"

Tino didn't miss the look of unease that passed through his friend's teal eyes. He knew that Berwald was loyal, to a fault really. This was one of the reasons why most people would kill to be his friend (once they get past his menacing demeanor). Everybody was sure that he would never betray them. Tino was sure that Berwald was torn at the moment.

"No' do'n' thi' fo' m' frien'." He said slowly, deliberately chosing each word. "Do'n' thi' fo' m' wife."

He didn't know why Berwald was staring at him with that look of utter concern after he said that. Well, he didn't know why until Peter showed up and screamed.

"_Papa!_" He hollered and Hanatamago gave off a bark from where she rode in his hood. "Why is Mama crying!? What did you do!?"

"Wha—_OUCH._" He grimaced as he covered the area of his leg where Peter shot him with the rubber band. Maybe teaching him how to use that gun was a bad idea. Actually, maybe giving a twelve-year older a gun was a bad idea in the first place.

The gun dropped to the ground with a loud clatter as boy ran to comfort his Mama. "Mama, it's okay! Don't cry! I'm here!" He threw his arms around Tino's neck and pressed his face into the crook of the Finnish's neck.

Peter could feel the rumbling of Tino's loud laughter through his chest and he could feel warm arms wrap themselves around his waist. "Peter, it's okay. Mama isn't crying because he's sad or anything. Papa did a very good thing and made Mama cry."

"So it's good crying?"

"It's good crying."

Peter cast a guilty look over his shoulder at the other man. He didn't look too happy. "Sorry Papa."

" 'S oka'." Berwald opened his arms to which Peter responded to immediately. With a flamboyant pounce, he leapt into those open arms and returned the hug. The arms stayed open and Berwald gave Tino a quizzical look through his glasses.

Tino pointed a finger to himself to which Berwald gave a curt nod.

Scouting closer to the duo, he could feel strong arms closing. A small smile bloomed on his face and he rested his cheek on top of Peter's ruffled blonde mop of hair. "I love you two."

"I love you too, Ma! You too, Papa."

"I lov' yo' to'."

"What!? What about me, Papa?"

"Fin', fin'. I lov' yo' to.' Jus' don' shoo't m' an'y'mor'."


	10. Flowers :SealandxLatvia:

_AN: I thought I lost my uncle's dog today. D: It was a horrible feeling and I swore I just looked away for a minute. I counted. Anyways, I had to retype some parts three times because when I tried to save it, the browser would end up restarting instead. This is the reason why I obsessively save for every sentence I type on my word document back at home. Edit: Ha ha! I fixed all of the spelling errors (or at least a good chunk of them)! Seriously, I really do need a spellchecker for when I'm writing.  
Warning: SealandxLatvia_

_

* * *

_

He really doesn't know what to do, the only thing he can do is hope that they haven't forgotten about him. Wait, they haven't forgotten him, have they? _Of course they didn't! They're responsible adults!_ Raivis shook his head, to clear his mind of such unpleasantries, with such gusto that he turned heads.

A light dusting of red appeared on his cheeks at the stares and at the fact that some actually stopped in their tracks to watch him. _Just ignore them, don't look at them._ He told himself as he made a visible effort to not return the gazes.

Raivis didn't like attracting attention and he absolutely didn't like getting the Russian boy's attention, but he was Raivis, he would always get the short end. Like the fact that he was just a sophomore (which surprised a lot of people) and here he was hanging around the entrance to a college. Full of old people and… adults.

He had to admit though; maybe he was just overreacting. There was no reason to be this upset about standing around the gate, wearing the high school uniform (even though it let out a good thirty minutes ago), and suffering through a case of the buckling of knees, nothing to overreact about.

Or at least that was what he kept telling himself until he felt that drop. Jumping just a tad bit, a feeling just a tad bit startled, shivering fingers raised to touch his nose. It was wet. _Is it about to rain?_ He looked up and it was like everything was planned out beforehand.

The sky was still a cheery blue, but it started sprinkling a bit harder than usual.

Uplifted spirits (if you could have called them that) deflated in an instant as the rain clouds gathered up and around the neighborhood, spreading water here and there. The little Latvian schoolboy could see students jogging at a faster pace to their destination, students running out of the main building screaming for hail, and students going about their normal life as if there was no chance of rain. He saw all that, but he didn't see Eduard or Toris.

The wet was beginning to seep through his multitude of layers and Raivis couldn't deny that he felt a bit cold at the moment or that his guardians were probably coming home late today. He sighed through his nose as he adjusted the satchel's strap that was beginning to dig into his skin.

Turning around to head back the way that he came, he hit another body, one that let out a sharp squeal. A blush soon found its way onto the Latvian boy's face as he staggered back, confusion apparent in his eyes as his mind tried to process the fact that he bumped into somebody who was standing next to him. How long have they been standing there?

"I-I'm sor—"

"_Gah!_ Stranger danger! Don't eat me! I don't taste good! I swear!" The other boy swore throwing whatever it was that he was holding at Raivis. General confusion and turmoil was apparent in those ruddy blue eyes as Raivis watched, with a blank look, at the red carnation that was thrown his way. The flower didn't even manage to reach him and so it started drifting down and down and down.

_… What?_ "What?"

Prying an eye open, blue eyes scanned the other boy set in front of him. The stranger unfurled from their previous frozen-cringe position into a 'this is pretty awkward now' position. He shuffled his feet nervously before plucking the sailor cap of his head and fiddling with it idly in hand.

"Um, Ma—I mean _Tino_—" He breathed a mental sigh of relief when he caught himself before he could use the word. The Finnish boy had told him not to refer to him and Berwald as Mama and Papa to outsiders, or else bad things will happen (he was much too afraid to ask, he just assumed it had something to do with that Jerk Arthur). "He told me to throw whatever I'm holding if somebody I don't know tries to touch me."

"Good parents?"

"Ha ha, yeah. I guess. My name's Peter." He checked the area around him before taking a seat on the ground. He patted to the empty concrete spot next to him. "What's your name?"

He eyed the spot next to the boy decked out in sailor garb (complete with a little anchor charm hanging out of his pocket… not that he thought it was cute or anything…) before slipping his bag off his shoulders and taking the seat. He barely registered the fact that it was no longer sprinkling. "Um, I'm Raivis."

"Raivis? That's a funny name. Where are you from?"

"Latvia."

"Latvia…" Peter trailed off, a finger lightly tapping his chin in a thoughtful manner as he searched his mind. "Latvia… OH!" He snapped his fingers. "That Latvian schoolgirl who slapped that British man in the face with the flower! I just wanted to say good job! That'll show Arthur!"

"That… wasn't me though…"

"Who cares? That'll show that British bastard!"

He was almost afraid to ask. "Aren't you… British?"

An indignant flame arose in Peter's sky blue eyes at that question and Raivis' hair stood on end. He inched away from the bristling boy.

"I'm not British! I'm Sealandian! Sealandian!"

"I'm-I'm-I'm sorry!"

"It's okay, just don't do it again. Also, what are you doing here?"

* * *

The two boys sat at their small little table set right by a large window, inside the small cafe, sipping honey-sweet drinks and munching on little samples of baked goods that the manager provided them with. Raivis idly sipped at his drink as his new friend rambled on and on and on about somebody named Arthur. Each time the other boy (who he learned went to the local middle school) used his favorite term to describe the man Raivis couldn't help, but he cringe. Where he learned that sort of language is beyond him.

"—So he stopped me from selling myself on Ebay. I mean I just wanted to see what would happen! Are you listening?"

Oh boy, he wasn't listening. Raivis's head jerked upwards a tiny bit when Peter leaned forward and jabbed him in the arm, really hard. It was more like a punch, honestly, but Raivis was use to this kind of force. Living and pretty much just being friends with Ivan Braginsky had that kind of effect on people.

"You weren't listening were you?"

"I-uh-um-I… uh."

A scoff filled to the brim with vexation escaped Peter's lip and he leaned back in his chair, a hand clutching at his shirt in mock hurt. "You really weren't listening! I'm shattered!" He rocked forward in his chair, his elbows proped up on the small circular table that they shared. He rested in his on his hands. "Did you know that in some places, not listening to what somebody is saying would get you in a lot of trouble?" He waited for Raivis's mouth to open before cutting in. "I should give you some sort of punishment or something."

He had to make an effort not to cough his drink all over the table and onto the cookies. He quickly wiped the liquid dribbling out of his mouth with his sleeve before yelping out a very high pitched, "_What_!?"

The corner of Peter's lip twitched upwards. "Yeah. What kind of a punishment would be good?"

"Y-Y-You're not serious a-a-are you?"

"Hmn... what kind?" The little middle schooler mused to himself, pretending to not have heard the inquiry as he taps his fingers along his chin in a rhythmatic pattern. "Ha! I know!" Blue eyes widened with realization and he snapped his fingers. He pointed a finger right into the Latvian's face and with a mammath grin stated, "You shall be my friend for a minium of fifteen years! Yeah, that's a fun punishment."

Violet eyes focused to the finger in front of him before looking into bright blue eyes shining wih excitement. Both boy's lips quirked upwards and both erupted into giggles and snorts. Eyes squeezed shut and laughs pouring out of their mouths, they paid no mind to the kind of looks they were getting from the other costumers. Raivis quieted down into shallow giggles when he felt a comforting and recognizable hand resting on his shoulders. Looking up and over his shoulder, he coyly smiled at Toris and then at Eduard. Toris's smile widened and he nodded towards Peter who was struggling to catch his breath and recieving a very odd look from Eduard.

"Um, this is Peter...um."

"Ha ha... Oxenstierna-Väinämöinen."

There was a look of shock on his face, but it was gone just as quickly as it appeared. Toris watched for any signs of any other emotion than startlement on Eduard's face, but all he saw was a rather stotic Eduard gazing fondly at Tino's child. A warm familiar feeling settled into his heart, yes, it was pretty cute seeing Eduard looking like that, but at the same time, Toris couldn't help, but feel a bit... disturbed.

"Oh, you're their son? Well, how's the happy couple doing?"

"_EH_!? You know my parents?" He bolted up in his seat and slammed both palms on the table. He gazed at the three Baltic nations with a look of bizzare admiration shining in his vibrant baby-blue eyes. "How come you never told me, Raivis?"

"I didn't know your last name..."

"But-still-I-I-what-I-I-OH—"

"Speak of the devil, there's your parents over there!" Toris stated in a rush before Peter can continue with his nonsensical and rambled speech. That manage to divert the younger male's attention. With a very loud and excited, "Mama!" and "Papa!" Peter dashed towards his parents, knocking over his chair and whoever happens to be in his way. With a leap that would be a big cat proud, he pounced into Tino's out stretched arms, almost knocking the two over if it weren't for Berwald propping Tino up.

"I made a new friend today! And what took you guys so long?"

"Tino forgo' somethin' in 'n school. Had t' go look."

"I didn't know that my flash drive fell! And— Oh! _Moi moi_ Toris, Eduard! What are you guys doing here so late?"

"Hello you two. We were looking for Raivis here." Toris explained, clapping his other hand onto the boy's shoulder. "Took us a while to realize that he was in the cafe."

Pushing his glasses up farther onto his nose, Eduard said his hellos to Tino and Berwald. Gripping Raivis's hand in hi sown, he pulled the boy up and onto his feet. "It's getting pretty late. We should be going now. Raivis here probably hasn't started his homework and he can't afford to fall behind now."

"Aw, do we really have to go now?" Puting on his best kicked-puppy face, he turned to look up to Tino... whowas avoiding his gaze. No success. He then turned the look to his father, but the expression quickly disappeared at that look on his father's face. No success there either. "Fine, fine. We'll go home. Just..." He started, prying his bag open. "Wait." He rummaged in his bag for a few minutes and a small 'Ah!' told everybody of his success. Carefully pulling out the already banged up flower from his bag, he handed it over to Raivis who accepted it with a bewildered look.

"Ah, Peter don't give that to hi— Ah! Berwald! Don't do..." The sentence faltered and died when Berwald made a hissing noise while placing his index finger flush against his lip. A smallest of small frowns was on his face, but he deiced to follower Berwald's advice. Tino didn't say any more.

"Peter? When did you get this?" Raivis asked once he realized that it was the red carnation that the other boy threw at him.

"When I went to the bathroom."

"A-Ah... why are you giving this to me?"

"Mama told me that you give red carnations to people you like. So I'm giving it to you."

"O-Oh... thank you."

"No problem! I'll see you tomorrow! By the gate, okay? Also, bring some money with you this time! I'm not paying for our food next time!"

* * *

He sat up in his bed, staring out of the uncurtained window at the night sky as he waited for his search engine to stop loading. The stars shone really brightly and vibrantly tonight, he didn't know why, but he was glad for it nevertheless. It really did make the dull sky look like something out of a fairy tale. A sigh and Raivis stared at the laptop screen to see how much was finished loading. Another sigh when he learned that it only managed to get to a measly fifty-three percent. Why couldn't the internet here be faster?

He cast a spare glance at the single red carnation sitting all by its lonesome in a pink and black-checkered vase that he found in one of the boxes that contained all their unmoved items. He trained his eyes onto the screen and tried to will the site into loading faster. It didn't work; Raivis actually had the feeling that it had the opposite effect. He sighed and leaned his head against the headboard of his bed. It was only natural teenage curiosity that was making him do this. He just wanted to find out what the flower meant, that was all. Or at least that was what he had planned to tell Toris or Eduard if they walked in on him and saw what he was trying to search.

More minutes of night gazing and star searching passed before Raivis looked down to his lap. A small smile adorned his features when he saw all the links that came up. At least he won't have to worry about not finding out what it meant or anything. The smile quickly faded though, disappeared into some dark recess of some area for later use, when he clicked on the link. Oh boy, does he really hate slow internet speeds.

'Discover the Carnation Meaning' the site said in big brown font. Raivis could feel his lip twitching into a smile at all of the small little doodles of carnations that decorated the background of the site. Why did they have to look so damn cute? Skimming the little introductionary paragraph that mentioned women and love and something else, the Latvian finally found what he was looking for.

" '_Red carnation flowers say 'I admire you' or 'My heart aches for you. They indicates love, passion, and respect.' _" He read, his face steadily changing color from a pale peachy white to a vibrant splotchy red. Quickly snapping his laptop shut as soon as he read that, he set the laptop onto the bed desk in such haste that he almost dropped it onto the ground. Quickly turning the lights out and pulling the covers over his head, he couldn't help but wonder if Peter knew what the flowers meant. Maybe? Maybe not.

_

* * *

_

Notes:  
1) The Latvian who slapped Prince Charles in the face with a red carnation (to protest a war) was sentenced to fifteen years in prison for endangering the life of a foreign diplomat.


	11. Confessions

_|Where do you see yourself fifteen years into the future?|_

* * *

_Where do I see myself fifteen years into the future? Isn't it supposed to be ten?_ He wondered apathetically as he tapped the end of the pen against his chin over and over and over and over again. Honestly, this was all boring and this was all just… stupid. Seriously, why did college students need to do this kind of crap? Wasn't it supposed to be reserved for the high schoolers? Oh yeah, the district required this. Shit, fuck them.

Lovino really didn't want to do this, hell; he would rather spend this time sitting in her absolutely, mind-numbingly, tedious, math class passing notes to Antonio. And that is saying quite a lot. He would rather go and play with that potato bastard or even approve of his brother's relationship with him. A look of utter horror came to his face as soon as the thought hit and he furiously shook his head to clear such thoughts. There was no way that he would approve of Feliciano's relationship with Ludwig. EVER.

Though maybe just sitting here, tapping this stupid pen against his chin while glaring at this dumb piece of paper wasn't the smartest idea he figured. And so he wrote down the first thing he could think of…

Lovino walked out of the empty room, whistling a cheerful tune about drawing a circle and it was the Earth. Spotting the counselor's secretary, he strode up to her, shoved the piece of paper into her hands, glared at her, and left the building.

_|I see myself not doing anything this retarded fifteen years into the future._

_Sincerely, Lovin__o|_

* * *

Curiosity wasn't killing him. No, curiosity was slowly militating him, hacking off one limb and another limb, slicing his skin and just making him suffer. Yeah, that was what curiosity was doing to him. And oh how Feliciano wished he knew what his dear brother wrote. Was it something happy? Or was it something horribly, depressingly, sad (He still remembers when they were children and Lovino wanted all the potatoes in the world to die)?

There was no use in thinking about it, Feliciano decided, setting his mind to writing down his future plans. But then it stopped him, that delectable image of pasta that popped up into his mind. Damn. Why was it there? He made sure to eat some pasta before he came in.

_Veeeee~ Pasta~_ He sang to himself in his mind, setting off a little chant as his body swayed in time to the beat. And then he stopped and squealed. What was Ludwig doing in his mind (not that he minded too much)? And why did he look so mad? Did he do something bad again?

_Ah! I remember…_ Pressing the tip of the pen onto the fresh white paper, he couldn't write anymore. _What was I going to write again?_ He wondered. All he could remember was pasta, pasta, pasta, Ludwig, pasta, and pasta. A pout adorned his features as he struggled to recall what it was that he was going to write. Did it have to do with pasta? Or did it have to do with Ludwig? A bright smile replaced the pout when he finally remembered. It had something to do with both pasta and Ludwig!

Flagging down the counselor's secretary, he passed over his paper with a bright smile. "Ve~ Here you go!" He chirped before merrily skipping out of the building.

_|Veeee~ In fifteen years, I see myself with Ludwig and making pasta for us!_

_Love, Feliciano~_|

* * *

Okay, so he wasn't a college student, but he was still part of the district! He's just a really small part of the district. Also known as the grade where you take your first district sponsored survey. Ha ha, he was just this much cooler than his other classmates. They chose him especially.

_This is soooo weird._ Peter concluded as he inspected all the decorations hanging on the walls in this secluded room. They were so weird, especially that moose head one. _It keeps on staring at me… and why is this room so different from the rest of the classrooms?_ Sure he's been in the college plenty of times, but this was probably the first time he's even been in this room. _It kind of reminds me of a supply closet._ He stared off into the only corner that didn't have anything cluttering it up. _It just needs a broom, riiiiight there._

Sharp successions of knocks on the wooden door jerked him out of his daydream.

"Are you almost done?"

"Uh…" He stared down at his blank piece of paper. _Not even close. _He looked back up to the door, a look that spelled out 'Oh crap what do I do now' on his face. Should he lie? Or should he say the truth? Actually, a better question would be what would a great Sealandian say?

"Uh. Yeah. Almost done… I guess."

He didn't hear from her again and just stared blankly at his paper, a slight furrow in his eyebrows. What could he write about that was different from what everybody else written? Honestly, what did people write about in these kinds of things? A mini little light bulb went off in his mind in a stroke of inspiration and he scribbled it down before it could vanish.

_|Fifteen years into the future, I see myself totally successful and engaged and laughing at a PWNED Arthur._

_Yours truly, Peter_

_PS. I would like to see Raivis in a dress somewhere along the way…|_

_

* * *

_

What could he write that wasn't overdone and overrated? Huh, he could say that he's going to bring the great nation of Prussia back up from the dead. Nah, that would probably cost a lot of money and cause a World War III or something. Well, he could write—No! It's just too embarrassing, especially for somebody like the awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt. Seriously, he made such a big deal about never doing _that_ and here he is thinking about doing _that_. How wishy-washy of him. So not cool.

His lips pressed together into an awkward and tight line. He could feel his bottom lip quivering just a tad bit and his scarlet eyes peered attentively at the sheet of paper, willing it to get off its lazy ass and write itself. He sighed through his nose and gave up when he started seeing white spots. Leaning back into the chair, he draped his arm over the chair and tilted his head back. _Maybe I should just write that…_ The frown on his face got more tense. _But it's so stupid…_

_Doing this fucking survey seemed like such a good idea before._ Gilbert thought bitterly to himself as his fist clenched and unclenched around the pen. He pressed the tip against the paper, but retracted it when a free thought came to his mind. Pressed the tip to the paper again and pulled it away again. _Maybe I should try writing down random crap._ Scribbling down random things, a frown slowly came to his face when he noticed that they were mostly ramblings about how awesome he was. Why did those kinds of thoughts (as correct as they are) have to be the only kind that he can express easily? _Oh yeah, it's because I'm not a pansy. Sheesh, Mattie would have breezed through this already._ He crossed out what he just wrote.

"Mr. Beilschmidt? Are you almost done? You've been in there for twenty minutes already."

"Hey, this requires a lot of thought okay!"

A scoff and Gilbert went back to attempting to express his thoughts. _I could write that. I mean, it's pretty un-awesome at the moment, but it'll pay off when I'm… thirty-six. Damn will I be old._ With that thought, he wrote down… _that._

Folding the paper into fours, he handed it over to the secretary with a toothy grin. "Hey there. Here's the paper." Gilbert left the building.

_|I want to settle down.|

* * *

_

_AN: Lovino sure does have a lot of angry energy pent up. XD Is it weird that I think he'll make an interesting banker? ... Am I in hell!? D: Oh, Feliciano and your friggin' pasta and Ludwig... ness. Peter's answer is pretty immature compared to everybody else's, but he's only twelve. He has a good excuse! For Gilbo, I think he'll want to settle down when he's older. Plus, I think he realizes how the local kids will look at him when he's nearly forty and with no wife (or husband)..._


	12. SuperSize Me

_An: Inspired from the Fast Food Song and SuperSize Me. C: Oh Alfred, you and your fast foods. -sigh- Have I ever told anybody how much I love my History class? We're like the pros at country jokes! Our favorites have to be about Canada, Djibouti, and Russia. Canada is the big winner though with Djibouti as a close second. Russia just barely makes it. Gah, I made a mistake and spelled Arthur's name wrong. Why does Arthur and author have to be so freaking similar? Thanks Sightlines for pointing that out._

_

* * *

_

There are just some things that he should learn and then there is something that he shouldn't. Like for example, he should learn how to read the atmosphere, take sarcasm, and not be a general nuisance. And then you have the perfect example of what he should not learn.

"A Pizza Hut, a Pizza Hut! Kentucky Fried Chicken and a Pizza Hut!" The American sang out loud, ever happily oblivious to his brother's and former caretaker's discomfort. He took an unusually loud slurp from his soda before taking a gigantic bite out of his hamburger.

Mathew winced as his brother took yet another monstrous chunk out of his hamburger. Honestly, how did that man stay so thin and while eating that much? _He must have a high metabolism._ The Canadian concluded feeling a bit dejected that his older (and not to mention heavier) brother has a faster metabolism than him. It wasn't fair.

"A Pizza Hut, a Pizza Hut! Kentucky Fried Chicken and a Pizza Hut!" Alfred continued singing, a bit off key, as his marched through the mall, always one step ahead of Arthur and Mathew.

Arthur watched the younger boy as he marched, arms bent and swinging wildly with each step he took. The only time Alfred's stroll looked remotely normal was when he took a bite out of his food, but how much burger goes into that mouth is just… jaw dropping. Maybe he should start cooking Alfred's food again. _He always did regulate how much he was eating then…_

The blonde took yet another monster munch out of his quickly depleting hamburger. He took a few quick chews before opening his mouth just to sing, "McDonalds, McDonalds! Kentucky Fried Chicken and a Pizza Hut!" He looked over his shoulder; big blue eyes shining with merriment much like a child's with his cheeks bulging with meat. He quickly swallowed his food. "Hey, Mattie! Come on! Sing with me! Where's your American spirit!"

"Nonexistent since I am Canadian…"

There was loud sputtering and some strangled choking noises from the man. "W-What!? You're my brother! How are you Canadian when I'm American?!"

"That's actually a good question…"

"Well, Canada and America are next door neighbors!" Alfred states triumphantly, acting as if he just founded the cure to cancer instead of stating an obvious fact. "They share culture! Yeah! You can totally sing with me!" He backpedals to where Arthur was lagging behind and draped his arm over the man's shoulder. "You can join in too if you want. I mean they _do_ have McDonalds in England, right?"

The British man curtly shrugged off the arm and stiffly strolled faster to catch up to Mathew. "Of course there are McDonalds in England!" _Though I wish there weren't._ "They even have McDonalds in Africa for Jesus's sake!" _I think._

"They have McDonalds in Africa? Really?" He stared quizzically at Mathew who sighed and hung his head. "Well? Do they? Mattie~"

"Yes, yes they do. I don't think there's a place on Earth that doesn't have a McDonalds."

His mouth formed a little 'o' before he took a good chunk out of his food, it kind of reminded Arthur of that shark that took that bite out of the seal on Animal Planet yesterday. Except that shark didn't start singing, "You like it, you love it! You know you really want it!" Off key and very loudly. Honestly, where was the off switch on that boy?

Arthur watched as Alfred popped the last remaining bits of his previously supersized hamburger. His face scrunched up into a look of utter _'EW'_ when the American cleaned off his fingers in the customary way and wiped off the spit on his pants. Honestly, where did all those manners he thought him go?

"Alfred, that was just disgu—"

"Hey look! There's a Pizza Hut! Anybody in the mood for pizza?" The blonde shouted, pointing an arm and finger at the store. Stars were in his eyes as he gathered Arthur and Mathew and herded them into the store as protests and insults (mostly Arthur's) spewed out of their mouth like a spurting faucet.

"Enticing, exciting, aroma so inviting! And when it hits, me, I wanna take you home!" He sang softly to himself as he took a bite off the tip of his pizza slice. His lips curved upwards as a wave of utter bliss hit him. _God do I love pizza._ He took another bite of his slice. _It's almost as good as hamburgers. Almost._

"Alfred, maybe you should cut back on the fast food…"

"This is really good, Mattie! Are you gonna finish your slice?" Alfred questioned with his mouth full of mushed up and half chewed pizza. He reached over to grab the Canadian's neglected slice, but a quick slap from the British man to the hand caused him to retreat. "Ouch! What was that for? Sheesh."

"Did you just hear what your brother said?"

"… No."

"… You twit."

"What?! What'd he say?!"

A tight little frown was on his face as his brother turned to him expectantly. He sighed through his nose and hung his head for a brief second before looking up right into Alfred's blue eyes. Despite the confident air he could feel exuding from him, right when Mathew opened his mouth, it disappeared. "Well, um, uh… I think you should cut back on the fast food."

"What!? WHY!?"

With furrowed eyebrows, Mathew looked over to Arthur who gave him a nod before picking up where the Canadian left off. "You're eating three full meals a day at McDonald's and that's almost all your eating. You SuperSize almost all meals and you hardly exercise. I'm surprised that you can even run."

A pout was on his face, but he made no comment. Mathew continued.

"You get depressed sometimes, you're not as energetic as you were when we were younger, and you get headaches. They stop when you eat McDonalds. You're addicted."

The pout changed into a frown and the mouth opened to retort, but Arthur butted in instead.

"You remember reading about the guy who drank himself to death in a couple of weeks, right?"

With a reluctant sigh, Alfred nodded.

"You're doing the same thing with fast food instead of alcohol. You're killing yourself."

"What."

"You're killing yourself."

The American stared dejectedly at his pizza slice, his appetite lost after the lecture and the newfound fact that he might be killing himself from overindulging in his favorite foods. With a finger, he pushed his remaining slices around on the large plate, his eyes never leaving the slices. With a sigh, he pushed the plate away from him and leaned back into the chair. "Fine, I'll start controlling how much I'm eating."

The looks on Arthur's and Mathew's face were the definition of heavenly bliss.

"Tomorrow."

There was a loud _thud_ from Mathew's head hitting the table and a loud groan from the Arthur as he slapped a hand over his face.

"A Pizza Hut, a Pizza Hut! Kentucky Fried Chicken and a Pizza Hut! McDonalds, McDonalds!"


	13. Prussian Virtues :PruCan:

_AN: Is it me or are they a bit more chummy than when I last left them off? ._. Why are the PruCan chapters always the longest? And we're learning about the United States of Alfred's economy in History. Then after that is Mathew and his provinces. 8D  
Warning: PrussiaxCanada, swearing, and a lot of Prussian virtues_

_

* * *

"No! No! No! Who taught you that? That's not the way you're supposed to do it!"_

"What? Are you sure? I've been getting my answers this way."

"Which would explain why you're failing math."

The Canadian's nostrils flared slightly, blond eyebrows knit together, as he leaned back to get a better look at the Prussian in front of him. Hurt shimmered in his eyes as he mouth pursed into a pout. "I'm not failing math."

Hovering over the book, Gilbert sent Mathew a skeptical look before flipping it shut. He folded his arms across his chest, and leaned back into the chair. "I'm pretty sure a D is a failing grade." He commented casually, staring off at the ceiling as if there was something interesting up there besides paint splatters.

"I'm pretty sure it isn't."

"I'm pretty sure it is."

"I'm pretty sure it isn't."

"I'm pretty sure it is."

"I'm pretty sure i—"

"It's not a passing grade! Sheesh, just drop it already!" He snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose. Tipping the chair back, he balanced it on the one leg while muttering something under his breath in German. Mathew wasn't sure how long the man stayed like that, head tossed back and probably muttering vulgar German when suddenly the mumbling stopped. That got Mathew worried.

"Gil? You okay?"

"Mattie."

"Um, yes?"

"Obedience."

"… Excuse me?"

"Do you know what it means to me?"

The blonde swallowed the forming lump that was lodged in his throat with some difficulty. The blonde nervously looked to the side, unsure of what to say or to do. Gilbert's short fuse just gets shorter when he has to tutor somebody (even if he volunteered) and one false move could lead to him exploding and leaving. And that was bad, really bad. Mathew honestly believed that Gilbert was his last hope to saving his grade.

_Well, if you add up all the stupid questions I asked and my inability to understand this, he's probably on his last straw._ "Uh, yeah, about that." He looked back to Gilbert and a small frown formed when he saw that the man was still in his original position, minus the finger pinching. _It looks like somebody drove a stake through his heart._

"You don't know do you?" A loud sigh later, Gilbert straightened his back; hand on the back of his neck dutifully rubbing away the cramp. He feigned a yawn, free hand flipping the book to the right page, red eyes watching the page numbers increase. Pointing a finger to the problem that Mathew wasn't able to figure out, he said, "Obedience is a Prussian virtue." He motioned for his friend to come closer before jabbing the book problem with his finger. "So listen to what I have to say and do it. Okay?"

"What happens if you make a mistake?"

_Hmn, he didn't accept right away. Definitely not like his brother. _"I probably won't be making a mistake since that'll be pretty stupid for somebody like me." He flashed the Canadian a toothy grin before continuing with what he was about to say. "But if I do… make a mistake—Urgh—tell me." He cleared his throat and wiped off his grin before looking the other male right in the eyes. "I will repeat: listen to what I have to say and do it. Okay?"

_To agree or not to agree, that is the question._ Mathew told himself as he listed all the pros and cons in his mind. He could feel the albino's heated gaze on his skin, waiting patiently (and with mild amusement he bet) for Mattie's verdict. A frown was on his face when he noticed that the cons where outnumbered just barely. _Screw that._ "Uh, okay."

He couldn't deny the fact that he could just feel that one corner of his lip twitching and itching to pull his mouth into that lopsided smile of his. Honestly, why was it only that corner? Why couldn't it be both? He fought to keep his smile under control, but it was becoming increasingly harder, especially with Mattie's smile full of laughs right across the table from him. _Fuck this._ He smiled and Mathew burst into laughter. "Shut up."

"Haha… I won't laugh at you anymore. Just… help me with my homework."

There was grumbling and the scraping of Gilbert's chair bouncing along the tile floor as he hopped closer to Mathew. "Okay," He pointed a finger at the book problem. "First order." He looks the blonde right in the eye. "Give me a kiss." Cheeky grin.

Mathew slammed the book shut _hard_ onto Gil's finger.

* * *

"Gil~ I'm tired."

No response.

"Gil, can we take a break? My head really hurts."

No response still.

"Can we take a break? Seriously. We've been doing this for three hours non-stop already."

Utter silence.

"Gil, um, Kumahiro is eating your pants."

The German slammed the palms of his hand onto the table causing the smaller male to give a little jump in his chair. He stared quizzically up at the German, who just stood there with his head hanging, elbows straight and locked and palms resting on the table. Mathew could hear Gilbert controlling his breathing, an oddly peaceful sound to Mathew. Well, until he screamed out, "OW!" Which was then accompanied by a fluffy polar bear dashing off with a piece of Gilbert's pants.

"Kumajibo! Oh my God, Gil. Are you bl—"

"Uh, let me check…" He peered down at his leg before pulling a face. "They're just scratches that are… kind of bleeding."

"Oh my God… I'm getting the first aid kit."

"_Lerne leiden ohne zu klagen!_"

The blonde stopped in the middle of his dash to his drawer at the sound of Gilbert's voice. Mathew wasn't too sure what he said, but from the way he said it, he could assume it was a command to stop. The furrow in his eyebrows deepened as he watched as Gilbert slowly pushed his chair farther out and limped over to him. Mathew's violet-blue eyes trailed down to his leg and he couldn't help but wince.

"Gil! Go sit back down!" He snapped, dashing over to usher him back.

"_Lerne leiden ohne zu klagen!_" He whined, recoiling a bit as the Canadian draws closer and closer. He caught the smaller hands that were reaching for them and started wrestling with Mathew for his right to stand there.

"Gil! Just! Gah… Just stand there then, okay!" He snapped, worry making him agitated. "You're fucking hurt, okay!" He motioned wildly to Gilbert's bleeding leg, face a-flush before turning around and heading back for the first aid kit.

"I'm fine Mattie! _Lerne leiden ohne zu klagen."_

"Gil, I don't even know what that means! And you're _bleeding._ From a bear attack."

More whining. "It means learn to suffer without moaning. That's what it means. It's a Prussian virtue… and Kumajiro didn't mean it. It's not like I'm calling Animal Control or something. This." He motioned to his leg wound. "Nothing a little water and soap won't cure."

"I don't know if you're being brave or stupid."

"Brave of course."

"Of course. Hold still, this is going to sting a little."

"Wait! Hold on! Wai— _OW! _HOLY SHIT THAT _BURNS._"

"What happened to learning to suffer without moaning?"

* * *

"Straightness, another Prussian virtue, you have too much of it."

Mathew looked up from his paper, giving Gilbert an amused glance. He set his pencil down onto the table before propping his head up with his hand. "Is that so?" The small smile that adorned his face grew even brighter at the sight of Gil's very crazy nodding. "Wasn't humility one of the Prussian virtues too? I think you're lacking that."

"Humility? How am I lacking that?"

"In quotes, 'I am _totally_ awesome.' "

A loud scoff came from the albino as he swirled the straw around in the dark colored drink. He took a sip of the soda. "That's some good soda, just letting you know."

"I'm surprised you didn't relate my soda back to how 'awesome' you are. Emphasis on 'my.' " Mathew chided, using the tone a mother would use with her child. "Sheesh," He pulled the drink away from Gilbert as he tried to get one last sip of the beverage. "Did you really have to drink from my soda?"

"I'm not sick or anything."

"I know, but still…"

"At least I didn't use your straw."

"Yeah, I know, but it's still kinda… weird."

"Sheesh, Mattie." Amusement evident in his red eyes, watching silently as Mathew carefully removed his straw from the drink and set it aside. Honestly, the boy would be a wonderful surgeon. Except for the fact that cutting open and living breathing human body would upset the hell out of him. "Have some courage. It's a Prussian virtue you know."

He didn't even try to hide the fact that he rolled his eyes at that comment, even when he picked the glass up to take a sip. "You and your Prussian virtues. Seriously. I've never seen you act one out without telling me."

"What!? I have!"

"Really now?"

"Really." Gilbert snapped, pounding his fist on the table his eyebrows all scrunched up.

"Umn hmn. Of course. Example?"

"What?!" The albino barked, his brow furrowing up even more. "An example? Are you fucking serious? God, you're worse than Ludwig sometimes." Despite what he just said, the male set to rummaging through his mind for some examples. _Well, there was that one time… Oh. Nevermind, I told Lovino. How about that other… No. I told Francis. Shit. What about… yeah. That could work._ "How many examples do you want?"

"I don't know." A shrug. "Three maybe."

"Three!? What are you? My teacher? Sheesh." One colorless hand buried itself in snowy-white hair. He ignored the sharp chirp of Gilbird and the peck that he got as a present. "Well, there's punctuality! I got here on time didn't I?"

"Yeah, with only a second or two left to spare."

"I was still on time! I have austerity don't I?"

"Yep. I remember for Ludwig's birthday, you got him that free birthday coupon that came in the mail."

_Hell yeah, being cheap paid off for once._ "I have religious tolerance."

"In this type of society, you were pretty much forced to. I think you can find another example."

"You think?"

"I'm being honest, aren't I? Isn't that one of your Prussian virtues?"

A scoff and Gilbo went back to raking his mind for ideas. "Ah! Subordination!"

"What? No, hell no. That's not you."

"Yeah, I know. It's more like you." A smirk grew on his face at the indignant squeak that came from the blonde. He looked to the side, nonchalantly staring off in outer space at the wallpaper and the hanging pictures. "Well, there's reliability. I'm reliable aren't I?"

"Uh… not for projects you aren't. Oh, I remembered one! Self-effacement!"

"Self-effacement? _Mehr sein als scheinen?_ Be more than you seem to be? Isn't that a more… _Canadian_ thing?"

A loud sigh and Mathew took a large gulp of what's left of his drink. He set the glass down onto the table. "Nah. I think it's more of a Prussian thing. You know, with that fake 'I'm totally not lonely' thing." A confident nod. "Yeah, totally a Prussian thing."

"Fuck you."

"You wish."

"… Shit."

* * *

He wasn't too sure how this happened or why this happened, but he really didn't mind. It was kind of nice just hanging out in the Canadian boy's room, invited (A.K.A. not having to break in) and watching television. Though with an unconscious blonde napping and using his lap as a pillow, it's pretty weird. _But weird is good sometimes._ He told himself as he started channeling surfing since the show was over. _I just wish that his head were lighter…_

His mind kept telling him things. Things like he shouldn't have let Mathew settle into his lap when he fell off his shoulder, that he shouldn't be so damn pleased to hear a soft and content sigh from the blonde every time he runs his fingers through the boy's hair. Honestly, what the hell was happening to him? _You are turning me into some sentimental lady._ It was a bittersweet thought as Gilbert ran his fingers through the soft blonde locks.

There was a small groan from the sleeping man as he shifted his body into a more comfortable position through making it thoroughly uncomfortable and awkward for the man who he was using as a pillow. _Matt, just stop moving around!_ He felt like snapping when all the Canadian seemed to want to do was alter his position.

The wriggling and squirming continued for a good five minutes (Who knew that Mathew was that much of a restless sleeper?) before it came to a halt. Gilbert peered down at Mathew, a frown coming to his face when he noticed that the boy fell asleep with his glasses on. "Sheesh." Halfhearted grumbles where all he said as he gently, so that he doesn't end up startling Mathew and risk getting a giant bruise on his forehead (he told everybody he got into a fight).

He folded the glasses and set them on the bed stand by the bed before settling against the headboard, a small smirk on his face when he saw one of the TV characters slip on a banana peel. His hand went back to stroking Mathew's hair.

_This is actually pretty nice._ Gilbert concluded, a warmth spreading throughout his body at the sight of yet another character slipping on a banana peel (but this time, he fell off a cliff too). _I wouldn't mind spending nights like this. It's pretty goddamn relaxing… and what the hell am I thinking?_ His hand stopped the soothing motions once he realized –for real— that he was indeed becoming soft. The quiet groaning of the blonde started up the hand again though.

He didn't really know what was going through his mind. It kind of took a mind of its own. _Huh, a mind with a mind of its own. Funny._ He stared down at the face of the Canadian, who would be staring right back up at him if his eyes were open. _He looks really peaceful. … Damn, I really hate you, kid. Turning me into some kinda pansy or something._ But in another part of his mind it said, "_Huh. Yeah, of course you hate him." _And in yet another part it said_, "The opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference."_ He smacked his head to get rid of those thoughts.

_The opposite of love isn't hate it's indifference? Do I feel indifferent to him?_ Gilbert took one look at the sleeping boy and looked back at the television. _Do I really need to ask myself that?_ He tapped his fingers along Mathew's forehead. _So I don't feel indifferent to him because that is totally opposite. Opposite…_

_Oh shit._ He looked down at Mathew. He looked back up.

_Oh double shit. Oh I fucking hate logic._ Was his only thought as he jumped up from where he was seated and sending a sleeping Canadian male into the air and onto the floor. The quiet stream of curses wasn't heard as Gilbert hollered out, "_Wer je auf Preußens Fahne schwört, hat nichts mehr, was ihm selbst gehört_!" To nobody in particular.

"Gil? Where are you going?" Mathew managed to gargle out in between his efforts to drag his body up back onto his bed.

"To go clear my head."

"O-Okay. Just come—" The loud slam of his door closing. "… Just come back soon… I guess…"

Mathew hauled himself back up onto his bed, still blinking out the sleep out of his eyes and trying to clear the confused haze that clouded his mind. It was just then when he noticed just how lonely his tiny little room was.

_

* * *

Translations:  
1) __Wer je auf Preußens Fahne schwört, hat nichts mehr, was ihm selbst gehört - __He who swears on Prussia's flag has nothing else that belongs to himself AKA self-denial_


	14. Happy Lunar New Year Valentines Day

_AN: I do I do I do, do I do love you! And do you do you do, do you love me too? I was listening to that song (DDR version) the whole entire time I wrote the last segment. XD;; The closer I got to the end of the last segment, the more awkward I felt since I am not, repeat am not, an emotional person. Nor do I have practice writing that kinda stuff. ^^;  
Warnings: GerIta (GermanyxItaly), and country and human names used _

* * *

Saying that Im Yong Soo was bored to tears would be an understatement. Saying that he was bored to death would still be an understatement. No, no, this was beyond death and the Korean was suffering from a severe case of boredom in the other world, well, that is if he did die from boredom. "Yao, Yao, Yao, let's go do something. I'm bored. There's nothing to do." He whined and moaned, laying flat on his back. He was sprawled out on his bed like a starfish, pleading eyes trained to his roommate's back.

"Aiyah, can't you shut up for a least two minutes? I'm busy, aru." Was the snappy reply as Yao fumbled with whatever it was in his grip. He looked at the money he held in one hand, frown on his face as he tried to part with it. Looking at the envelope he held in his other hand, he sighed through his mouth before shoving the eight dollars into it and sealing it shut. _I'm running out of money fast… eight dollars for each person is a lot, aru._

"But I'm bored, I'm bored, I'm bored, I'm bo—Oh! What are you doing?"

"What does it look like? Preparing the 红包."

"The what?"

"These, aru! These!" Yao barked, whipping around to flail the miniature red envelope that he was stuffing like a turkey. His anger quickly died when he noticed that the Korean's eyes were intently following the envelope everywhere it went; up, down, to the left, or to the right. "What are you looking at, aru?"

He totally ignored Yao's question. "When's Lunar New Year?"

"Tomorrow, aru."

"Tomorrow?" He repeated while he was pushing himself up right. "Isn't it Valentines that day?" Right when the words left his mouth, a look of utter confusion came across him. He didn't need to look at the expression on the Chinaman that what he said was just wrong, horribly wrong. "OH MAN." He literally bounced off his bed in a rush, landing onto the ground with a solid thud.

"Hey, are you oka—"

"Break open my piggy bank! I have friends I gotta give good luck to too!"

"Oh… about that, aru. I may have already used your… aru."

* * *

Feliciano bounded over to the coat rack, pulling his long coat off and onto his shoulders in a swift motion. He buttoned up, throwing a glance over his shoulder to his twin every so often. The faint traces of a smile were on his face when he saw that Lovino was totally engrossed in the sitcom; would it up his chances of getting out with less fuss? "Big brother, I'm going out!"

"Out? Hell no, not this late." Lovino replied, just sparing a glare at his brother before watching the show again. He sneaked a glance at the panda head clock (that Feliciano bought) before turning the TV off. He missed the devastated look on his twin's face. "It's almost nine o'clock. Just go to sleep or go drink some milk or something."

"But the _Perugina Baci_ are always fresh at this time!" He whined in retaliation, unbuttoning his jacket. He was going to be here for quite awhile it seems...

"_Perugina Baci?_" Lovino repeated, the word rolling off his tongue unlike the English that he was forced to learn. _Where did I hear that before?_ The name he recognized it, he knew it was Italian, but he didn't know what it was. Were they flowers? Candy? His lips straightened out into a straight line when he realized what Feliciano was going for. "Hey! You're not going to give it to that potato bastard are you!?"

"But I am!" Feliciano groused, tossing the jacket that said 'potato bastard' had bought him for his last birthday. Loosening the tie that hung around his neck, he sauntered over to his brother before plopping down onto the bed next to him. He saw his brother's mouth open through squinty eyes and his mind went into sleep mode.

Ponies pranced about and butterflies were defecated. The butterflies flew up and up into the sky and went _splat_ against some invisible wall. Colors leaked out from the bodies and bleed into a rainbow. Chibitalia took a step closer to read those white letters that stood out among the assortments of colors. A small smile graced the child's features when he saw what it spelled. "Oh!" Feliciano grabbed Lovino's head, startling him into silence. "Come with me to buy something for Antonio!"

"What?!" The other male jerked his hand out of his brother's grip and cradled it close to his chest. "No!" He shook his head, the curl flailing around with the motion. "Hell no!"

"Come on! Come on!" Newfound energy was found as Feli grabbed Lovino's other hand and pulled him up to his feet and quite literally dragged him (with kicking and screaming from Lovi) out the door. "Oh! He'll be so happy!" The more cynical of the two wasn't too sure who their bubbly counterpart was referring to.

In one last ditch effort, Lovino grabbed onto the coat rack, but Feliciano continued on his way, his brother's hand still in his own. The only thing that Lovino got out of it was a dismantled coat rack in their room.

* * *

A loud knock on the door stopped Yao in his tracks. Looking over his shoulder at the door, he rolled up his sleeves again and quickly packed the sweets into the delicately decorated candy box. He stepped back to admire his work, not even turning around when he felt his Korean peering over his shoulder at the sweets. Another loud knock, though this one felt a bit more… brusque to him interrupted his fawning. Rolling up his sleeves again, he whipped around brushing past Im Yong Soo as he went for the door. Im Yong trailed after him.

"Aiyah… hold on. I'm coming." Another loud knock sounded as Yao unlocked the door and he opened it just a margin, just enough to see who the hell it was (he had bad past experiences that forced him to do this). The door was flung open and slammed into the wall by Im Yong as he smiled childishly at the two guests. "Hi Viet-Viet! Hi Mei-Mei!"

"_C-Chúc m__ừ__ng năm m__ớ__i_…" Viet greeted, eyes staring down at the ground. The Taiwanese girl waved a very cheerful greeting to the Korean man, complete with a polite, but heartwarming smile. She just gave Yao a flat 'hello' much to Viet's embarrassment.

"We're his guests, be more respectful than that please." She whispered under her breath as she elbowed Mei-Mei in the side. She flashed the two men a nervous grin while she adjusted the bag that hung on her arm. "Can we come in?"

"Sure! Come in, come in, aru! I have your presents ready, aru!" Yao chirped a bit too happily. He took both girls' hands and led them deeper into his shared room, leaving Im Yong to close the door. "New clothes, I'm guessing aru?" Yao asked as he motioned for them to take a seat on pretty much the only place they could sit, the beds.

"New year, new clothes." Was the simple reply from Taiwan.

Korea belly flopped onto the bed before rolling over to face the ceiling. He looked at the two girls a large smile splitting his face. "Ha ha! Mei-Mei is right! You hear that Yao? You need to bring me shopping today for some new clothes!"

"You didn't buy him new clothes?"

"Viet, don't give me that look, aru! I did… they're just too small, aru. I'm happy I kept the receipt, aru." Shifting through all the candy boxes still, Yao was steadily becoming upset. _Where are their gifts? I know I made theirs, aru._ "Im Yong, did you see their—What are you eating, aru?"

"Hmn? Oh, this cake thing that Viet made for me! It's really good, aru! The recipe came from Kor—Ow! Don't hit me!"

"Then don't give out false information! Sheesh! These were made in Vietnam, right Vi?"

"… Vi?"

"Don't get off topic."

"Ah… well…. These weren't made in Vietnam. These were made at my mother's house…"

China watched with a stony face as the three continued arguing and commenting among each other. It was kinda like they forgot about a short Chinese man… A sigh through the nose and Yao went back to searching for the ever exclusive presents. Seriously, where were they? Oh well, he'll give it them later. He caught sight of the two red items that rested on his desk. Might at least give them the money now…

Grabbing the two red envelopes, he flipped it to the back checking it for a name. _No name, perfect._ "Here, aru." He tossed the envelopes to the three of them, one at a time. Each one's accuracy varied. "Happy Chinese New Year, aru."

"Wait, is this my money or yours?"

"Thank you."

"… Thanks. Oh, I have something for the two of you too!" Taiwan then dove into the bag that Viet brought along. Yao could see some things moving in there, but he made no comment and only watched, natural curiosity in his eyes. A smile broke out on her face when she came across what she was searching for. Pulling out two similar red envelopes, she passed it over to Korea and tossed it to China. "Happy Taiwanese New Year."

"Oh wait!" It was Vietnam's turn to go fishing in her bag. Pulling out something wrapped in leaves and tightly bounded by a giant string, she paused to measure it in her hand for a little bit before giving it to Yao. "Happy Vietnamese New Year. May you live to be one hundred years and have security, good health, and prosperity."

"Thank you! Um, what is it though, aru?"

"_Bánh ch__ư__ng_. I-It's a sticky rice cake with bean fillings and… yeah."

"It's really good, da-ze!"

"Well, thank you, aru. Come on, I think Hong Kong is starting the fireworks soon…"

* * *

He couldn't help, but feel like this has happened before. The fancy suit, the large bouquet of red roses, and the restaurant, they all reminded him of something. Oh yeah, the first date that he and Feliciano went on. That was just horrible…

"I'm sorry, but I can't find the name Vargas anywhere."

"W-what? Are you sure?"

"I'm quite sure, sir. There is a possibility that they have failed to make a reservation. Would you like to—"

"_Germany! Germany! LUUUUUDWIIIIIIIIG!_"

Head whipped in the direction of the voice and Ludwig could feel his shoulders relax when he noticed the figure of the Italian steadily getting closer and closer._ Mein Gott, what's happened now?_ Okay, a bit too close now, should be slowing down. Why isn't he slowing down? _Why isn't he slowing down._

He knew what was coming, which would explain why his body tensed up and prepared for impact. What he didn't expect coming was the tears that stained his clothes flowing from his favorite little Italian. "I-Italy! What's wrong?"

"Bwaaaaaah! I'm so sorry, Ludwig! I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!"

"What happened?!"

The Italian peered up at Ludwig, his brown eyes wide and overflowing with tears. More tears dribbled down his cheek before he hid his face against the man's chest and sobbed up a river again. "I-I-I stopped to pick up a red rose for Ludwig, but then there was this c-cute girl, but she was really mean and took it b-before I could! S-So then I had to wait for the florist t-to go get some more from the back a-and—"

"O-Okay… it's okay. Just stop crying." Ludwig muttered, trying to comfort the man albeit a bit awkwardly. You know, eyes looking everywhere but at the many eyes that were staring at them and at the sobbing Italian himself. He patted him on the head for a few minutes, letting his hand rest on top of the downy soft hair, before snapping out the orders, "Feliciano! At ease!"

All that military training that Ludwig called 'tough love' actually paid off… kinda. At the tone of the voice, the small Italian instantly peeled himself from Ludwig's person and stood totally erect. The only thing that showed he was once crying was his face. A few moments of silence passed before he realized that he was no longer in military training and his form instantly deflated like a popped balloon. His bottom lip quivered.

"I'm really sorry."

"I know you are. Let's just go somewhere else then…" With that said, he took the smaller hand in his and led him out of the restaurant.

A few minutes later though, Feliciano ran back in, scooped up the bouquet of roses and dashed back out again.

Feliciano had to admit, eating dinner in Ludwig's room wasn't his definition of romantic, but the fact that Ludwig actually tried to transform it into a mini resturant was quite endearing. He couldn't help but smile at the little table, covered with a cross pattern tablecloth, that they shared in the middle of room. The small glass vase with the single rose that Feliciano managed to buy was soaking up the water. And Francis actually cooked the dinner, he actually did!

"Ve~ Were you planning on me ruining the reservation because this is really well planned out."

Ludwig just shoveled more food into his mouth.

Feliciano quickly finished off his plate at a breakneck pace and stared in surprise at the sight that greeted him. There at the bottom of his plate wasn't a ring, but the image of a pig holding a four-leaf clover while climbing a little ladder on a heart. "Ve~ That is so cute! Where did Ludwig get these plates?"

A cough and Feliciano looked up to see a splotch of red on Ludwig's face. "Um, Germany. My… mother sent it to me when I told her about you…" The blush on the German's face grew and he quickly shoved more of his dinner into his mouth.

"Ha ha~ Ludwig's face is so cute when he blushes~"

"W-What!?"

"Oh! Oh! I got you something! I got you something!" Reaching into his jacket's breast pocket, he produced a small rectangular box wrapped in colorful paper and topped off with a large pink bow. How the hell Feliciano managed to hide it successfully is way beyond Ludwig. He handed it over to Ludwig, his eyes twinkling with barely contained excitement. "I hope you like it!"

"What is it?"

"Just open it! Hurry!"

He didn't need to be told twice, the Italian looked like he was about to implode from all his pent up excitement. Pulling at the end of the bow, there was a look of surprise when the bow came apart easily. Carefully removing the box of its wrapping paper, a small smile was on Ludwig's face when he realized that the Italian had gotten him chocolate. "Chocolate?"

"Sì! Sì! Open it~"

"Okay, okay. Calm down." Fumbling with the end of the box, he suddenly stopped. Extreme displeasure was expressed from Feliciano.

"Ludwig~ Open iiiit!"

"Wait a moment…" Getting up, he briskly walked over to the little section of his room that he dubbed the kitchen. Retrieving the plate he left there before, he walked back to the tiny little table and replaced Feliciano's plate with the other plate. "Happy Valentine's Day." He said though not without a blush finding its way into his cheeks.

Staring down at the plate, two large heart-shaped cookies covered up most of the dinner plate. They were both decorated with simple frosting along the rim in an assortment of different colors.

The smile on his face grew even wider when he noticed that one cookie was in black, red, and gold. His eyes settled on the foreign words meticulously written in white frosting, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. _What do they mean?_ Was his only thought, well, until he noticed Germany's flag that accompanied the words too. _I guess my German lessons aren't paying off…_

And then he looked at the other heart-shaped cookie. The colors red, green, and white stood out among the brown of the ginger cookie. A sense of giddiness washed over him when he realized that it was indeed, Italy's flag. He recognized those combination of colors anywhere, well, that and Germany's, but that's another story. He spotted the same white frosting… _Mi vuoi_? _I want?_ He looked up at Ludwig, confusion written on his face, but the other man refused to meet his eyes. Looking back down, he noticed the other cookie blocking some of the words. Pushing it out of the way, he read '_Sposare. Mi vuoi sposare? …Mi vuoi sposare!_

He looked back up at Ludwig, tears glittering in his eyes and feeling quite jumpy and flighty in his chair. "Really? Really?!" He squealed, clasping his hands together trying somewhat hard to keep his joy in check. The look on Ludwig's face told him everything.

His heart started pounding in his chest, ramming against his ribcage like a bird trying desperately so hard to be free when Ludwig's hand went into his pockets and pulled out a tiny little box. Feliciano swallowed thickly as the German slowly stood up, quivering and bit before walking to the Italian in an awkwardly stiff march. The smile on his face was starting to ache when Ludwig dropped to one knee and opened the box.

"… Um…"

"Yes?" It came out more like a squeak than a squeal.

"Will you… marry… me?"

Ludwig took it as a yes when Feliciano launched himself like a rocket at him.

_If this is a dream, please never let it stop._

* * *

_AN: Happy Valentine's Day and Lunar New Year!  
Notes:  
1) $8 - The number eight is considered lucky for its homophone of wealth.  
2) 红包 - Mandarin for the red envelopes.  
3) Perugina Baci - Perugina is an Italian confectionary and Baci is their most famous product. Baci are chocolate kisses filled with hazelnut, wrapped in a multilingual love note. They're a popular gift in Italy for Valentine's Day.  
4) __Chúc m__ừ__ng năm m__ớ__i - Traditional Vietnamese New Year greeting._  
5) _Bánh ch__ư__ng - Traditional Vietnamese cake usually eaten during the Lunar New Year_  
6) Fireworks - You celebrate the new year with firecrackers/fireworks... though they are banned in some urban places.  
7) Pig holding a four-leaf clover while climbing a little ladder on a heart - Pig is the symbol for luck and lust. The complete image... Germany's mother just wanted him to have a lot of luck.  
8) The heart-shaped cookies - They usually have a few words written on them (like 'I love you', etc in German); "the messages are rather more 'direct' as to the lover's intentions than your usual 'I love you!' "  
9) Mi vuoi sposare - Will you marry me; Italian (mi vuoi is I want)  



	15. Laugh Maker :PruCan:

_AN: BEWARE I PLAYED UP ON HOW PITIFUL GILBO CAN BE. -heart- But he's still Gilbo. Just drunken and totally pissed off. This was based on Laugh Maker by Bump of Chicken which would explain why some of the things Gilbert says reflect the lyrics. I can't preview the document because I don't have permission to access it, seriously, what the heck? I heard from my friend that Canada, like totally kicked Swede's ass! 13-1. Was going to post this on the 19th, but I couldn't stop myself.  
Warnings: Language, Drunk!Gil, alcohol_

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* * *

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"Gilbert? Are you here? Gilbert?" Mathew called out as he wandered through the hall of the German's residence. His hands were in his pocket, clenching and unclenching around the throat of the bottle of maple syrup that he had stashed in there. By his foot was Kumajiro, who matched his master's walk step-for-step as the Canadian peeked into open rooms.

"Gilbert?" He called out into one of the open rooms. Leaning forward and deeper into the room, Mathew peered around inside, taking in all of the simple decorations and the basic furniture. Something pushed past his leg causing him to stumble in and he ended up catching hold of one of the lamps for support. He cast a sparing glance at the lampshade that lay there on the ground, a bit banged up now before shooting a glare at his bear.

"What was that for?"

Kumajiro ignored him, going for the more comfortable option of burrowing underneath the large fleecy blankets and taking a quick snooze. The last thing Mathew saw of his polar bear was his short stubby tail flicking before he disappeared into the warmth. There was a soft sigh from the Canadian before he picked up the lampshade, placed it back onto the lamp and quietly left the room. He left the door open and continued looking for Gilbert.

Despite the mass of hair that covered his ears, his hearing was quite excellent. Better than his brother's, Gilbert's (even if he won't admit it), and even Francis's! Which would explain why he heard the muffled clicking of glass against glass, more than once. Which then led to Mathew reasoning that either Gilbert relapsed, he's just getting a quick fix, or he's somewhere in the house entertaining guests. He's pretty positive that he relapsed.

"Gilbert?" He called again, his worry making his voice crack. He wandered off in the direction of the clinking, calling out Gilbert's name to no prevail. The German failed to respond. The only sound he could hear was the floor creaking underneath his weight and the occasional clinking of glass being clanked together.

The faint trail of noise led him to a locked door. His left hand clenched and unclenched the bottle in his pocket, as he waited for his quivering right hand to knock on the door. _Come on. You can do it._ He urged it, but it fell to his side. Finding no other option, he pressed his ear against the door.

He could hear _things_. He wasn't sure if they were words or not, but he could hear the deep, slurred voice of Gilbert saying something. He didn't know if they were gibberish or not, and he was content that way.

He knocked.

And then he winced when there was loud cursing accompanied with the loud clatter and shatter of glass breaking.

"Gilbert!? Are you okay?"

Said German glowered at the door, as if he blamed it for making him spill his alcohol. The man was now standing, staring down at the ginger-brown colored mess of what used to be his favorite beer as it spread out across his floor, mixing with the shattered remains of the mug. Pushing back his matted bangs, Gilbert eyes scoured for something to mop it up. Eyes rested on his discarded shirt, and his frazzled mind thanked his drunken lucky stars that he didn't decide to wear his favorite shirt today. Mattie would not be happy to learn that Gilbert was using his Christmas present to mop up beer.

The sound of knocking fell onto deaf ears as Gilbert struggled to crouch down without toppling over. He gave up and just slumped against the wall, sliding down it and loosely gripping his legs close to his chest. He tossed his shirt into the mess.

"Gil! Are you okay!? Gil!"

The man's head tipped to the side, his mind trying to match the voice to its owner. His eyebrows furrowed together, the name was at the tip of his tongue… "Mattie?" He slurred, the haze surrounding his mind beginning to clear. "What do you want?"

"… Are you crying?"

_What kind of question is that? _"The _AWESOME_," He winced at the sharp pain that shot through his head. "Me doesn't cry." There was a pause as he struggled to remember what he was going to say next. "What do you want."

"I… Can you let me in?"

It felt like a century to him; that is how long it took his mind to figure out and settle on what Mathew was saying. Bloodshot eyes stared at nothing in particular, just at what could have been. The only feeling he could comprehend was confusion and the burning tingle his drinks left in his throat.

And then it washed over him.

A firm scowl was on his face and the feeling of disgust, at Mathew for catching him in this sorry state and at himself for letting himself getting to this state, settled in and overtook all those other pansy feelings. Shit, didn't he tell Mattie that he wouldn't relapse? God, he could see the smaller frame of the man hovering next to the door with this distraught look on his face probably praying to that God of his. _This is so fucking pathetic. _"Hell no. Just go away." He reached for another bottle of liquor.

Gilbert didn't know if it was because of how much of these… _things_ he consumed or if it was just because of his fierce will for his friend to disappear, but he couldn't hear any more knocking. None, zip, nada, _null_. Sitting against the wall still, he waited for the knock to come, beer bottle in hand, but it never came. _Gott sei Dank…_ He brought the mouth of the bottle close to his parted lips.

Then the knock came.

It never even touched his lips before he set it onto the ground with a loud clatter. _That idiot, he's still here? Damn it, of all the fucking times he could be persistent, it has to be now!_ "Kid!" He snapped, swiping up a stronger drink. "Why the hell are you still here!? Didn't I tell you to fucking leave!" He knocked the cap off.

"Gilbert, can't you tell me what the hell happened instead of killing yourself!?" A loud pound on the wooden door punctuated the sentence. Fireworks went off in his mind, and he rubbed his temple in an attempt to quell them.

The German guzzled down a good chunk of his drink as memories of what led to his pitiful state aroused. _That stupid bitch. Fuck, she's so damn oblivious sometimes. Kann sie nicht sehen, dass er nicht einen Dreck um sie?_ He downed the remaining half of his drink before letting it roll out of his grip.

Watching his bottle of liquor roll out of reach, he almost missed the next whispered sentence: "Gilbert, _please_ let me in…"

_Great, is the kid crying now?_ Cocking his head in the direction of the door, he waited for his eyes to focus on it and for his mind to form what he wanted to say. With them right at the tip of his tongue, he opened his mouth, but words that weren't his came out instead. A '_Hey Birdie, don't cry_' turned into "Hell, are you _crying_?" A _'I really don't want you to cry, so stop please'_ transformed into a "It can't be helped if you cry. I don't remember calling someone like you."

They left his mouth before he even knew he said them. _God… I am such a fucking JERK…_ He looked down at himself, snarl on lip. _And a goddamn pathetic one it seems._

He wasn't too sure when he stopped drinking (or when his mind cleared up for that matter), but he was pretty sure he knew the reason why. No good drinking if it was going to make _him_ cry, is there? But… there was one thing he wasn't sure about. Like why he was sitting and leaning against the door. _When in hell did I move here?_

"Hey, Mattie? Are you still there?" He asked suddenly, his voice hoarse and scratchy.

There was silence, and Gilbert could picture the blonde with puffy eyes fumbling over his words. "… Yeah."

"… Do you still want to come in?"

"I just want to see you, Gil. I honestly don't care if I can't come in. I just want to see you."

There was no smile, just a feeling of hope as he struggled to pull himself to his feet. Steadying himself against the wall, he twisted the doorknob and pushed, but the door didn't budge. A look of confusion flitted by on his face before he twisted it again and pulled. The door still wouldn't budge. _Oh man… I'm in that room._

"H-Hey, Mattie." He forced out a chuckle, not quite able to bring himself into a grin. "Funny story… You remember… that room that I told you about? The one with the fucked up… door. Yeah, I'm in it!" He chirped, sounding a bit too happy for somebody in his situation. He placed a deceptively cold hand against the door. "So… if you could just open it… it works fine on your side…"

No response.

"Mattie? You there?"

Gilbert couldn't hear anything and his eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Hey, Mathew. You're there, right? What's wrong? Come on; say something… Say. Something." _Please._

Gilbert pushed against the door with his whole entire body, hoping to budge it open, even if it was just a margin. It didn't work. "Shit…"

_He didn't leave. He didn't leave. Lieber Gott, please don't tell me he left._ "Mattie! Mattie!" He called out, as he continued trying to force the door open. _Oh God… Oh God…_

"Mattie! Fuck this! This isn't funny!" Gilbert hollered; clenched fists slamming against the thing that was holding him captive. "Oh God… I REALLY HAVE TO GO PISS." _Please tell me you didn't leave; I don't want to be alone again…_

The sound of his window breaking on the other side caught his attention. Wincing at the noise, he slowly turned around, only to stare blankly at the shrapnel that almost reached his feet. He looked up to see his Birdie, his Mathew; tears dribbling down his face, flushed face with a bright smile, and wielding his tiny bottle of maple syrup like a club.

"S-Sorry about your window... but I told you I was going to see you, didn't I?"

Gilbert broke out into a smile as Mathew climbed through the window frame, and he rushed towards him, ignoring the shrapnel under his feet. "Shit. Don't scare me like that kid…" He murmured under his voice as he guided the blonde into a hug. _Lieber Gott, ich glaube, ich fand mein Engel._

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Translations:  
1) Gott sei Dank - Thank God; German  
2) Kann sie nicht sehen, dass er nicht einen Dreck um sie? - Can't she see that he doesn't give a shit about her?; German  
3) Lieber Gott - Dear God; German  
4) Lieber Gott, ich glaube, ich fand mein Engel - Dear God, I think I found my angel; German


	16. Pokemon Rangers

He woke up at eleven, mind groggy and still in sleeping mode when he saw it. It was this bright light that came from the bed across from his. He sat up in his bed, wiping his eyes and looked again. It was still there. He blinked thrice at it before pulling the covers over his head and slipping back into his dreams full of pandas.

Throughout his dreams, he could hear this insistent scratching noise. _What the hell is that?_ Yao wonders as he cuddles closer to Shinatty. _Is it the pandas, aru?_ He looks down at the pandas frolicking around and eating. _It couldn't be them… then what is it, aru?_ And then the dream disappeared, leaving Yao awake and pondering over what the noise was. He rolled over, wrapping himself into a cocoon of blankets. And that was when he heard it, that incessant scratching noise. The Chinese man sat up in his bed and took a quick peak at the clock. _Twelve o'clock._

"Oh, hey Yao. You awake?"

"Im Yong?" He rubbed his eyes and stared at his friend. It wasn't very hard to see the boy with the bright light emitting from whatever he held by his lap. "What are you doing awake? And what is that in your hand, aru?"

The Korean lifted whatever he held up a tad bit higher, the light still going just as strong. "My DS Lite. I'm playing Pokémon Rangers, Shadows of Almia." He set it back down onto the blankets that covered his lap and picked up something else. Whatever it was, he popped it into his mouth before picking up his game.

Yao's eyes narrowed, trying to see what it was that the Korean ate. "Did you take any breaks, aru?"

"… Um, about that…"

"You've been playing for five hours straight, aru!?"

"It's not my fault I was wandering around in the Chroma Ruins for two hours!"

"What for, aru!?"

"I was trying to save! The game doesn't let you save! There's a quick save, but there's no back up file to it!"

Yao didn't know what to say so he didn't say anything, the Korean's inner geek was just too strong, and it overpowers common sense in every way. The one thing that seemed logical for him to do was slap his forehead and pray that Im Yong wasn't going to fail their first period test that was in eight hours. Oh man, the boy was going to fail.

"What do you keep shoving into your mouth, aru?"

"Oh, this?" The younger man questioned, using the light emitted from the DS to show off the gum's box. "It's some kinda gum that Kiku bought for me." He set his electronic down to pull the box open and plucked a pitch black gum out and into his mouth. "It's caffeinated, but it has all this other crap in it that makes you all energized and stuff! Plus, it's reaaaally good!"

"How many of those have you eaten, aru?"

"Um… Maybe a… pack or two?"

"Im Yong Soo!"

"I know, I know!" He whined. "Don't start nagging me! You're not my mother, Yao!"

"I might as well be!"

The words slipped out of his mouth before he knew it. The two males stared at each other, their expressions a mixture of shock, disgust, and overall horror.

Im Yong's face paled considerably, and his chestnut brown eyes were huge and his lip was twisted into a grimace. His hands tightened on the DS and he looked like he was about to gag or explode, one of those.

Now, Yao on the other hand didn't look so traumatized. Thin eyebrows were knitted together and he just looked shock; like a light was shined into his eyes but the light turned out to be headlights from a very large truck…

"I'm happy you're not my mom, Yao…"

"D-Don't talk about that, aru."

"Really happy."

"Im Yong!"

"Sorry."

* * *

"Yao! Go faster!"

"I'm trying, aru!"

"Not fast enough though! Do you want me to take over?"

"NO. I can do—GAH! It broke on me, aru!"

"Just draw another capture line! Not now! It's about to attack!"

"It is, aru? Holy crap! Minus eight, aru!?"

"Ha ha, one more hit and you're a goner." Im Yong sang, a grin at the corners of his mouth as he watched his boyfriend try to capture the Spiritomb who was doing an extremely suburb job at frustrating Yao. He had to fight back a snigger when the older man was caught in Spiritomb's center attack. Let's just say that Yao was not a happy man.

"I died."

"Well, technically you didn't. Your styler just broke and all your pokemon left you."

"That makes every thing better, aru."

"Glad it did, da-ze~ Okay, now give it to me. I bet I can do a better job than you."

Slender fingers snatched the game away from under Yao's nose and he frowned at his younger companion. He rolled his eyes and pulled the blankets up and shuffled into them. Burying his face into the pillow, it wasn't the smell of Im Yong Soo that he found odd; it was the smell of kimchi.

"You ate kimchi in bed before, aru?"

"Yeah, why? Is the smell still there?! I tried washing it out, but it won't come out!"

"You spilt it in your bed, aru!?"

"Oh… um… no?"

The fact that the sentence came out like a squeak didn't help Im Yong try to convince his roommate that he did not spill food all over his bed. It also didn't help that he looked everywhere (well, mostly at the screen of the DS), but Yao's probing eyes and occasionally he would laugh nervously.

"Ha ha… stop looking at me, Yao. It's weird."

"Just remind me to take your bed sheets to the Laundromat."

"Ah! Thank you! You're paying right?"

"Why me? They're your sheets, aru!"

"But you offered to—No! I forgot to pause!"

And that was the end of that conversation. The two settled into a quiet silence that nobody really wanted to break. Im Yong flashed a glance at the other male watching the chest rising and falling with each breath, a tingle of glee flowing up his spine at the sight. _He's sleeping in my bed! With me in it! And I didn't have to watch a scary movie that was made in Korea! Victory da-ze~ _He definitely has some news for Kiku in the morning. _Kiku owes me ten dollars now!_

Im Yong Soo played Pokémon Rangers: Shadows of Almia throughout the night ("I need to save!"), let's just say that he didn't get very high marks on his test… but he did get ten dollars.


	17. Hana wa Sakura :Giripan:

Those small packages that his lover had wrapped up in cloth and placed delicately into bags bumped against his thighs as he struggled to even get his foot onto the next step. Thighs burning, feet sore, and knees buckling, Heracles doesn't even know how long he's been climbing these stairs; these godforsaken stairs, these godforsaken stairs that he hoped he wouldn't fall down—or up—for that matter.

"Heracles? Would you like me to carry those for you?" Kiku piped up from where he stood on the stairs a few steps ahead, his hands resting lightly against the cold metal of the railing. In his other arm hung a large cloth bag with all the things he dubbed necessary for today.

Heracles quickly straightened his back and re-gathered the bags into a more comfortable position on his arm; they still dug into his arm. His hand waved dismissively. "No, no. You're carrying something else, I can carry this by myself." There was a pause, and Kiku could see that thoughtful look that shows up occasionally. "Though when can we sit down? There's something… I have to tell you."

Kiku resisted the urge to voice his question of '_why can't you tell me now?_' and opted for a polite nod of the head instead. Small smile on face and a simple gesture of his arm, he motioned at the stairs. "It's just up these stairs."

"Are there going to be a lot of people there?"

Now that was odd, Heracles actually wondering about how people around them would react? Kiku couldn't help, but feel a bit apprehensive. _Is he going to try something? Should I ask? Should I prepare?_ "Oh, well…" He stammered, mind trying to figure out he should do and say. "There shouldn't be too many people…" The '_why?_' died on his tongue once he caught sight of the man's wistful expression.

"Ah. Okay then, let's go then. You want to be eat lunch up there, don't you?" He said with a smile on his face. "Though…" He looked behind him, back at all those steps that Kiku and him had to travel up. "I'm still at a lost to why you wanted to come here for lunch."

It was Kiku's time to smile. "You'll see why when we get up there."

* * *

"My grandmother, when she moved here, used to take me here every year around this time. There was never a lot of people here, mostly because they are always daunted about the thought of going up the stairs." Kiku explained his voice a soft murmur that barely rose above the wind. He cast yet another glance over his shoulder to see how his Grecian was dealing.

Heracles never noticed that the Japanese would stare at him every once in awhile, oh no, he was much too busy staring at the ground. Too absorbed in watching the stairs getting longer and longer. But that doesn't mean he's not listening. "I'm not surprised." A childish grin was on his face when he saw his foot leave the last step and land on the floor. He looked over his shoulder, curious to see how long the staircase really was. "I'm happy I didn't fall down the stairs."

"Don't say that, you'll jinx yourself."

A gentle tug on his hand told him to stop gawking at the stairs. Looking up, all he could see was a sea of pastel pink and the very rare patches of blue that peaked out of the quilt of flowers. Delicate blossoms of pink and white were strewn about along the ground like a wedding aisle and decorated the simple white benches. He turned to Kiku, but he chocked on his breath when he saw the look on Kiku's face; a wistful ghost of a smile was on his face.

It broke his heart to have to tell him the news… "Kiku?"

"Yes?" Kiku's chocolate-brown eyes _smiled_ at him and he couldn't breath. Could he honestly tell him?

The words died in his throat and try as he might, the words he wanted to say couldn't form. "Those are cherry blossom trees, right?" He asked at last motioning vaguely at the trees that lined the sides of the plateau. _Mama would be disappointed in me… 'Don't avoid the subject' she would tell me. 'It'll just make things worse.'_

"Yes, this is your first time seeing them, correct?" Kiku answered, walking off and towards a vacant bench. He brushed the debris off of the seat and set the large bag down before taking his seat.

There was no need for Kiku to pat the spot next to him or to even invite Heracles over, the man did that all on his own. "In person, yes." He replied as he sat down next to the smaller male. "I've seen them in the books you showed me." He removed the small bags on his arm and set them onto the tiny spot between them.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?"

"I still think they pale compared to you."

The burning red of embarrassment rushed to his face and Kiku twisted his head so that Heracles couldn't see the blush. "I… T-Thank you."

"No need to thank me for stating a fact, Kiku."

"A-Ah… o-okay."

"Ha ha, don't worry, I'll try not to fluster you too much today. Though you do look quite nice with a bit of red in your face…"

Kiku stared blankly at Heracles, who in turn just shrugged… in a rather sheepish manner.

_Would now be a good time to break the news?_ The Greek wondered as he watched in silence as Kiku started opening the lunches that he packed for the both of them. Though this event was interrupted by the echoing footsteps of a stranger looking to get away from life in the cherry blossoms.

Looking over his shoulders, he was pretty sure that it was somebody from his class. _White hair… red eyes… who was that again?_ He wondered and then it hit him. _Ah. Where's that blonde he's usually with?_

"Heracles?"

"Hmn? Yeah?"

"Would you like you lunch now?" Kiku inquired, fiddling a bit with the lunch box that sat on top of the small stack that rested on his lap. Brown eyes cast downwards and off to the side, he could feel worry making its home in his stomach. Would Heracles like the lunch that he made for him? Would he find it odd? Or would he tease him about being a wife like Gilbert did when he told him about his plan? _Oh… this was a bad idea after all._

"Sure." A lazy smile on his face, Heracles plucked up the _bento_ and set it down onto his own lap.

Kiku berated himself for not having a back up plan.

"What kind of place is this?" Heracles asked suddenly, a hand motioning out and around them. Maybe, just maybe, if he got Kiku talking and when he… 'drop the bomb,' it wouldn't be too bad? Maybe? _It's worth a shot…_

A pause before Kiku responded, "It's usually considered a… lover's spot," A faint dusting of pink on his face as the word 'lover' left his lips, "The name of this place is very well known, but the actual place itself isn't."

"The name?"

"Yes, it's commonly referred to as the _Cherry Blossom Benches_ due to the fact that this spot is surrounded by cherry trees and the seats. The actual place description is not quite well known –as I have pointed out before—most aren't willing to climb the stairs."

"That's really… sad. You can see the lake from up here, the cherry blossoms add a nice scenic image, but they don't get in the way of the sky. It's out of a picture book." Heracles concluded with a brief nod of his head, a thoughtful expression taking over his former lazy grin. Despite how 'professional' Heracles deemed himself to be (at the moment), Kiku broke out into a smile.

"I agree."

Silence ensured and Heracles wondered if he should break the news now. One sly glance at his companion, his companion in more ways than one, and he knew that the time was now. Now, now, _now._

"Kiku—"

"H-Heracles—"

Mirrored smiles were on the two males' faces when they realized that their words collided.

"Go ahead Kiku."

"It's okay, mine isn't too important. Please feel free to go ahead."

Suddenly, now didn't seem like such a good time. "If you insist…" How could he put this gently? Should he explain the circumstances first? Or just tell him flat out and then explain the circumstances surrounding it? Maybe he should have asked Sadiq about this before hand. _The man does know what to do in situations like these…_ The Grecian thought to himself begrudgingly. His mouth was dry, he had a hard time swallowing, hell, and he had a hard time forming the correct sentences. _I should have asked him. Damn bastard…_

"Heracles? Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He lied. Eyes closed and he took a deep breath to steady his nerves before shifting in his position so that he was facing Kiku directly. He gripped the Japanese's pale hands in his own and looked deep into his eyes…

To any onlookers, the image would have been the definition (image and all) of romantic albeit a bit cheesy. Soft breezes stirred their hair and clothing and carried the faint mewling of the cats that were lurking around the area. Both males stared into each other eyes, a thinly veiled look of confusion on Kiku's face and the utmost solemn look on Heracles'.

It would have been a 'Kodak moment,' a 'picture right out of the fairy tales,' or in the words of a certain Hungarian, "Absolutely beautiful!" Complete with the clicking noise of a camera. If only it didn't carry bad news.

"I'm moving back to Greece."

Kiku could hear something break; was it Elizaveta's camera?

"W-What? When?"

Hesitation caused Heracles to look away. _You can do it. The hard part is over… I think._ Steeling his resolve all over again, he looked him right in the eye. "Tomorrow."

He wanted to pull his hands away from the larger hands cradling his, but something refused to let him to that. "Tomorrow? When?"

"… First thing in the morning."

"Why?"

"Ug—My—My father is being relocated back to Greece and we have to move back with him…"

He wasn't sure how he was still talking. Wasn't his throat closing on him? "W-When are you coming back?"

Yet another mountain Heracles had to overcome. It didn't look this big when he last saw it… "I'm not," Hesitation made him let go of Kiku's warm hands. "Sure."

"Is it… soon?"

"Five years… at least."

If Kiku was shocked at the news, Heracles wasn't able to hear it in his voice nor was he able to see it on his face. All Heracles knew was that he whispered the number to himself, a grim look on his face and his dull brown eyes suddenly sparking with emotion. If only it wasn't this even that ignited such a reaction.

"Wil—"

"I will keep contact with you. I _will._"

"… Do you need my email again?"

"Yes, please."

"… Isn't the internet cost high in Greece?"

Heracles just shrugged.

Nobody talked and they just thought as Kiku rifled through the large cloth bag for the pad of paper and pencil he knew he put in there before. He pulled out a large downy blanket and handed it over to Heracles before throwing himself back into the epic search.

"Do you need my phone number?"

"Yes, please." He said as he buried his fingers in the fluffiness of the blanket. There was no doubt in his mind that Kiku brought it along for a late night snuggle underneath the stars. _Huh… didn't I suggest that after we started being… close?_

He could feel something soft and warm being draped across his shoulders. A strong arm wrapped itself around his waist and quite literally dragged him away from his bag and into a warm body that wasn't Kiku's own. "Heracles-san, please, I would like to give you the information before we forgot." Mouth straightened out into a straight line, Kiku pushed Heracles' hand away, but he didn't seem to mind.

_Heracles-san, haven't heard that since he asked me if he can just address me by my name._ The Greek plowed on, tightening his hold on the smaller one's waist, he rested his head on the shoulder and snuggled in, enveloping them in fluffy blue.

"I would much rather do this during out last time together, you know."

"I-I see…"

"I'll get your stuff later when we leave."

"O-Okay then."

"Also…"

"Yes?"

"I'll come back for you. I will."

"… Thank you."

"Now how about lunch? I heard from a certain Prussian that you made my _bento_ as Greece's flag…"

* * *

Years have gone and years have past and people changed. Kiku and Heracles, they maintained their relationship through the first three months of being apart. He would call the Japanese man every day, but they would rarely talk. They would just sit there by the phone, knowing that the other was right _there_ and being content with just that. But things changed…

People fall out of love and people fall in love. Places change and evolve. The small little _Cherry Blossom Benches_ evolved into the much more glamorous _Sakura Spot_ (Kiku still preferred _Cherry Blossom Benches_ though). It changed from being the tiny little lover's escape into a grand attraction for lovers and families of all kinds.

From where he sat, on the bench, he could observe everything that went on around him. And it scared him a bit…

But what worried him most are still the phone calls. They used to be so frequent, but soon they started changing. They became less often and Heracles became more talkative, but he would talk about things that Kiku's Heracles wouldn't have talked about usually. It was weird, but it was still Heracles Kiku figured. So they talked, but even that changed. Kiku was lucky if he got a phone call or even an email from the man once every two or five months. After awhile though, they disappeared. He thought that maybe the man had moved on. They weren't getting any younger after all.

But that wouldn't explain why every year, on the same day, at the same time, Kiku would hike up those stairs to go take his spot on the bench just like the first day he was here with Heracles. He always took the stairs, despite the small trolley that was hooked up to the side and sent them straight up to the benches. He would bring the same things with him, two _bentos _in one bag and a blanket in another. And sit down on that bench before anybody else could.

He's been doing this for so long that people got used to it. Woman would swoon and fawn over the fact that he's still waiting for that one guy and children would come and ask if they can have the some of the _bento_ that was in the shape of the Greek flag.

Some years a plucky child would try to take a piece of the baklava sitting in the corner before Kiku intervened and scolded the child. He always sends the baklava to Heracles and hope it doesn't spoil along the way. Some years a brave soul or two would try to sit next to him, but he would always say that the seat was taken and they would leave, only to be scolded by that old lady with the two cats and granddaughter. He still needs to thank her for that, would she appreciate some rice balls? How about some _sake_ for her son?

Kiku sat on the white bench by himself, nibbling daintily away at his rice cracker and staring down at the lake. His eyebrows scrunched up when he remembered when the lake was actually a clear blue. Hell, you could even see some fish swimming around along with people, but that was before. As time went on, the lake pretty much died. Turns out that the fish had mercury poisoning (Thank God nobody really fished them for food) and the body of water was suffering from pollution.

The lake simply became something pretty to look at. Kind of like this place.

Looking up and through the thinning trees (They were balding faster than a middle age man, seriously), Kiku could see the stars somewhat clearly. Some stars would fade in and out of existence and it brought back past memories of Heracles' and his adventures on the rooftop. There were so many dang fireflies.

Something dashing through the sky caught his attention. A smile was on his face when he remembered Feliciano falling onto his tent while squealing about how his wish came true. Would his wish come true? A moment's hesitation lasted for a second too long and the comet had disappeared over the trees.

But another shot through the sky without a second thought and Kiku wasted no time wishing with all his heart and mind. Hands clasped tightly rested on his lap and his eyes were squeezed tight to the point of seeing things that just weren't there. Behind his lids, he could see a dark figure, hear the rustling clothes as they moved, and he listened to the heavy steps of the stranger. Poor man probably didn't realize that there was a trolley now.

Brown eyes widened in shock when he heard whoever it was take the seat next to him and he stared blankly at the mop of wavy chestnut-brown hair that suddenly appeared before him. The corners of his lip twitched upwards when he spotted that single strand of hair that stuck right out the top of the head and diverged to form two curls.

"You're late."

"Ha ha… I know. I fell down the stairs when I was coming up."

"I told you you were going to jinx yourself."

A shrug from the taller man and he slouched against the bench. "Yeah, I guess. I'm just happy I'm back. Things didn't change…" Heracles concluded, smiling at Kiku.

And Kiku smiled back at him. "Things didn't change…"


	18. Saltwater Room :PruCan:

_AN: Untitled's end is coming sooner and sooner~_

_

* * *

_

Out of the corner of his eye he could see some somebody strolling alongside the lake's shore through the window. A vague question passed through and disappeared as he was pulling the heavy coat over his shoulders. He spared a quick glance at the flashing lights of the digital clock, face scrunching up just a bit at the numbers. Gilbert made a clicking noise with his tongue. _Who the hell in their right mind would want to take a walk at 5 AM wearing **that**?_ A closer look at the wandering figure told him his answer. _Apparently Mattie's that kind of guy._ He finished buttoning up all the way to his chin (and a bit above) before flinging the door to his cabin open.

Gilbert trailed a few (around five maybe?) meters behind Matthew, eyes never leaving the figure in front even as he adjusted his scarf. _Damn ratty scarf._ He thought to himself, fingers fumbling with the fabric. _Too many damn holes, not enough cloth._ He pauses in his actions when he noticed Matthew stopping.

He watches as the blonde steps closer and closer to the waves, so close that he worries the boy might be considering suicide. Gilbert watches as the Canadian stops, turning his attention up to the dark sky. Gilbert mimics the action, red eyes immediately meeting with the much more glamorous image of the moon. A ghost of a smile on his face, he could almost see those remote controlled planes buzzing through the sky.

He wasn't too sure how long he's been staring at the moon for, but the ache in his neck might be able to give him some clues. Looking at Mattie again, he observed the boy as he peered down at the waves that touched the tips of his shoes.

With the fact that "Kesese… the night isn't getting any younger," Gilbert made his move and cautiously crept up to the Canadian's back.

He crept across the sand quickly and carefully, the soft sand not even disturbed by his footsteps, in a comedic fashion. Nearing his friend, Gilbert tugged his jacket into place ("Goddamn these fucking layers! I hate the cold!") preparing for his pounce.

He never made the pounce. Oh no, he was much too distracted when he saw a slight shiver pass through the boy's body and the sneeze that accompanied it. Silver eyebrows knitted together as he took in what the hell that boy was wearing. _Mein Gott. The kid is going to get a cold wearing that._ And that was when he had to make on the most difficult decisions in his whole life.

"Fuck this." He cursed to himself under his breath as he undid the scarf wrapped snuggly around his throat.

Matthew had nearly had a heart attack when he felt something heavy being flung over his shoulder. Whatever it was covered his head and obscured most of his vision which then led him into full panic mood. He wasn't too sure if he should be crying or not as he was busy flailing about and trying to rid this _thing_ cloaking his eyes.

And then he heard it.

That _Kesesesese_ laugh that could only belong to one person.

"Gilbert!" He snaps whipping around to face his buddy, finally managing to pull the man's jacket off his head. Face bright red and violet eyes narrowed into slits, he glared at the man who didn't even try to contain his laughter. Fed up with the hissing laughter, Matthew pushed the man and he fell over into the sad easily… still laughing.

"Kesesese, you looked like you were having a seizure!"

"And that's funny!?"

"Yeah!"

A slender hand gripped at the thin shirt he wore. "I thought my heart stopped!"

"Huh, how funny. That's what she said after she saw my AWESOME FIVE METERS."

"Gil!"

Said man pushed himself up, a hand reaching up to his eye to wipe away the tears that gathered there. "Sheesh," He said a bit breathlessly as he stumbled to his feet, watching as the sand fell off his person. "You overreact sometimes."

"I-I do no—… It's only because of you."

Gilbert leaned back to take in the ruffled image of the Canadian before him. He had to admit (albeit grudgingly), Matthew looked pretty nice like this. A smile was on his lips when the blonde looked up away from the ground to look him in the eyes. "Gilbert? Why are you staring at me like that?"

Words weren't needed. Gilbert reached forward with quivering arms, the bitter cold air nipping at his skin through his second jacket and tugged the coat from Matthew's grasp. He draped it over the other male's shoulder (and with some difficulty tried to put the boy's arms in before he got the message and did it himself) and proceeded to button it up. "You'll catch a cold if you walk around wearing that." He mumbled, pale fingers hastily fumbling with the buttons, eager to return to the warmth of his pocket. "This place is like a fucking desert. Blazing hot during the day and fucking cold during the night." He promptly shoved his hands back into the warm haven of bliss.

Matthew wriggled a bit in the large overcoat, pulling sleeves up a bit to expose his fingers. He wriggled them a bit for good measure before adjusting the coat into a more comfortable feeling. The coat was large on Gilbert so it was definitely larger (and longer) than he would have liked, but it was indeed warm… "Thanks Gilbert." He paused before talking again. "This is your warmest jacket, awfully nice of you Gil." The Canadian remarked, a teasing smirk on his face as he playfully poked Gilbert's chest.

The reaction he got in return was certainly… interesting and puzzling. The Prussian was spurting and stammering, eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes narrowed. Matthew thought he saw a blush, but one blink and it was gone. "Yeah," Was the first intelligent thing that the Prussian was able to say, "Don't get used to it or anything. Today's special." _Yeah, special. That works._

Gilbert ignored the quizzical expression directed towards him. He scratched his hair and looked away from Matthew, feeling just a tad bit awkward at the moment. "So… uh, what are you doing out here so early?"

A shrug. "I couldn't sleep." Matthew continued staring at Gilbert who still refused to look him in the face. He shrugged again before asking, "So what are you doing here? At…" He pulled up his sleeves to take a look at his watch. "5:31?"

"I uh… well, I was going to go wake you up for some pancakes."

"I can't make pancakes here. You know that. We're not allowed in the kitchen."

"Yeah, so then I decided to ask if you would come with me to raid the kitchen's pantry for food."

"And get in trouble?"

"Pretty much."

"Yeah, no thanks."

Gilbert shrugs, rocking back and forth on his feet. An uncomfortable silence hangs over the both of them, Gilbert idly drawing patterns in the sand with his toe, Matt watching them in silence.

To Matt, all he saw where squiggly lines mixed in with thick lines and shapes. To Gilbert though, he saw something utterly different. He saw formulas, plans, and diagrams. He saw flowcharts leading this to that, numbers representing words, and words representing numbers. He saw _the way_ to you know, hinting to Matt how he felt about him. He wiped the plans away and readjusted his scarf. "You know how a couple of days ago they told us the story of this place and the tunnels?"

"The tunnels? The tunnel systems, right? The ones that connect to the lake?" His mind worked to figure out what the hell Gilbert was getting at. He couldn't possibly… oh no, he didn't… does he? "You don't actually believe in those tunnels do you? There's never been any evidence besides some people's reports." He paused. "Don't tell me you want us to go find the entrance."

"Nah."

Matthew breathed a sigh of relief.

"I want us to go check out it's _many_ entrances."

Oh, it did seem like he believed in them. "Gil," He started, rubbing his temples. "You can't honestly believe it's the Tunnels can you? I mean, how do you know it's actually them?"

"Simple, I did my research!"

"You just went onto some forum and posted questions about what it looks like, didn't you?"

"It's still considered research." The Prussian replied flippantly before taking the blonde's hand in his hand. "Come on, I want to show them to you." He said, leading Matthew along the shore, a pale hint of pink in his cheeks.

* * *

Kneeling among the grass, Gilbert dug furiously at the surface with a very confused Matthew watching. Groping about and pushing the grass apart, he hissed out his laughter, hands gripping onto the cold metal of the handle and pulling.

Despite the blonde's protests, he tightened his grip on the blonde's hands and ushered him down and into the underground pathways. Grabbing the handle, he closed the trap door on them. He heard a rather unmanly shriek from underneath him and a hand gripping onto his pants.

"Gil! Open it back up! Open it back up! _Open it back up_."

Gilbert patted the blonde's head in an effort to comfort him (there was a reason why Mattie never really liked horror movies) before nudging him to continue climbing down the ladder. "Just a bit more then there's a lamp."

"There better be…" Matthew mumbled under his breath as he cautiously continued his way down, eyes large and trembling hands hardly even able to hold onto the ladder.

Jumping down next to Matthew, Gilbert pulled the matchbox from in his pocket ("Wait… where did you get those Gil?") and lit up the lamp. He dropped the match to the ground before squishing the flame out and picking up the lamp, motioning to the other lamp for Matthew to do the same.

And off they went, traveling deeper and deeper into the darkness. Matthew praying frantically to whoever cared that Gilbert really did know what he was doing.

* * *

"Put it to your ear; you can hear the ocean."

"Gil, I don't think half a clam shell is going to work." _Even though it is pretty… big._ Big was an understatement. The shell was about the size of Matthew's outstretched hand as he flipped it around and around. "My God what were they feeding it?"

"J-Just put it up to your ear!" Gilbert commanded, forcing the seashell close to Matthew's ear.

"Okay okay, sheesh. I don't think I'll be able to—"

"_Pwsssssssh. Vooooosh. Pwsssssh. Crissssssshhhh_."

Mattie stared at Gilbert, who looked back at him a smirk on his face. "See, I'm so awesome I can even make it do those… ocean sounds." He finished awkwardly, hand motioning idly in the air.

The blonde hummed in response as he placed the shell back into its original corner before tugging at the ends of his sleeves. "Well, why did you want to bring me here? I'm pretty sure you didn't just want to show me a seashell."

"Correct!" The albino stated, snapping his fingers together. A maniacal glint entered his red eyes as he stared at his buddy. "That." He motioned to the wall behind Matthew.

"That?"

"That."

"Let me guess, there's a secret door leading into it."

"Such a smart boy."

Strolling up to the door, he pushed against it with all his weight and he could feel something stirring in his hair (Oh dear god did he hoped it was Gilbird). With a whole lot of moaning and groaning from the door, it slowly jerked open in short spurts, obviously not used to being opened. A few more tries and Gilbert stood back, wiping some of the sweat off his forehead. "Watch your step." Was the only thing he said as he wandered into the saltwater room.

* * *

"So that's why they made this room so weirdly."

"Yeah, this one was probably connected to a small lake that dried up because there's no water. You see that opening there?" Gilbert asked pointing at a rectangular opening on the wall. "It let the water come in and out along with some fish, but nothing too big. Don't want a shark getting into the water supply." He explained feeling just a _tad bit_ smug with himself.

Matthew could tell that the man was about to burst into song about how damn awesome he was. That was not an event he wished to have a repeat of. Seriously. And so, Mattie stared down over the ledge of where his foot hung off. _The pit's more shallow than I thought. Probably only five feet or something._

"We better get going."

"Wait-what?"

"Well, we're not finished with the tour. There's one more place I wanna show you…"

* * *

"Gil… it's amazing—and if you say anything about your five meters I will castrate you."

"… The 'that's what she said' doesn't really work now after you said that."

Matthew sighed, shifting to get into a more comfortable position on the large slab of rock they were sitting on. "That's the point, Gil." He muttered as he readjusted Gil's coat for probably the fifth time after sitting down. _Why does it have to be so cold at night?_ He thought to himself miserably.

Though he had to admit, the view pretty much made up for the freezing cold temperatures that would make even Kumajiro cry. You could see everything from up here, so Mattie was pretty sure they used this spot as a surveillance area. From up here, you could see over the tippy-top of the ridiciously tall trees (if you were tall enough that is), the large lake, all of the smaller lakes surrounding it (he spotted lakes he never knew where there), and the lines and lines of cabins that they should be at. You know, doing a special little business called sleeping.

But the best thing about this was the fact that Gilbert actually let him sit on his lap. Why Matthew wanted to sit on his lap, Gilbert never asked. Why Gilbert never argued and just pulled him to his chest, Matthew never asked. It was yet another something of an unspoken thing among them. The same with that time when Gilbert kept trying to get his hands into his friend's pants (quite literally) when he was drunk. You just don't talk about that when you come to. You just don't.

"Hey Gil, can I ask you some questions?"

"… _Whut_?"

"It's just… we're together a lot," _To the point that even Arthur thinks we're dating. _Matthew thought. _I wouldn't mind that though… WAIT. Back on track! _"But I don't…" He trailed off, fiddling with the ends of his sleeves. "Well, we don't usually _talk._"

A sigh. "Do you know why, Birdie?"

"I'm afraid to ask. Why?"

"Because we're men." A pause. "Or at least I hope so. You're not like Elizabeta when she was younger are you?" He asked, resting his chin on top of the blonde's head; fingers intertwining with Mattie's.

"I'm one hundred percent male. But please Gil, can we?"

"No."

"_Please_?"

"I-I… I said—"

"Please?"

"… Fine. Shoot."

Now that he got the older man to go along with it, he wasn't too sure what questions to ask now. He honestly didn't think that the man would _put out_ that easily. "Uh… well… Okay!" He took a deep breath. "What do you plan on doing when you're older?"

"When I'm older, huh?" He repeated, squeezing the blonde's fingers. "A historian maybe. I don't know."

"A historian? I thought you hate history?"

"I hate the way they teach us, not history itself." He rested his cheek against the mop of silky fair hair and breathed deeply, getting a whiff of the blonde sitting on his lap. _He smells really nice today… What the hell am I thinking? _"Any other questions?"

"N-No… not really."

"If you have any, feel free to ask. The great and awesome Gilbert Weillschmidt is willing to answer any lovely maiden's questions."

"I'll keep that in mind…" And he trailed off as he nestled himself farther into Gil's chest. It wasn't long before he was pretty sure the Canadian was dozing. And right when he was about to scoop Matthew up and carry him back to the cabins, he piped up with a new question.

"Do you wish we'd fall in love?"

Such an odd question, it stopped the great and mighty Prussian in his tracks. Settling the both of them back into their original position, Gilbert analyzed the question. Was there a double meaning? Was he implying something? Or was he just curious? Oh god, he really hoped that he meant what he hoped he meant. "Aren't we already?" Was his simple reply as he buried his face against Mattie's neck.

That answer caught him off guard and he found himself unable to speak. "Ah… well… I-I guess we are…" He trailed off, leaving the sentence open to whatever else anybody wanted to add. Nobody wanted to add anything else to that sentence, or more correctly, nobody could.

"Gil?"

"Yeah?"

"You remind me of dark chocolate sometimes."

He pulled a face even though Matthew couldn't see it. "Dark chocolate, why dark chocolate? It's so… bitter. White chocolate is sweeter and thus more awesome to my taste buds."

There was a tingly laugh that the Prussian knew was the smaller male's. "But dark chocolate is so…" He paused, searching for the right word to describe it. "Special." He nestled into Gilbert's chest again.

"It's so bitter though."

"Says the man who drinks his weight in alcohol." He could feel the man shrug. "But that's what makes dark chocolate so special." Matthew protested, squirming a bit in his Prussian-made seat. "The bitterness drives people away, and so they miss out on the special kind of sweetness that the dark chocolate offers. It's subtle, but it's really hard to miss and you can't help but want more of that sweetness." He shrugged. "It kind of reminds me of you."

"So I guess that means white chocolate is like you."

"How so?"

"It's awesome like I said before."

Matthew blinked his baby blue eyes (that have just a dash of violet mixed in) in surprise. Was he implying that he was…"I'm awesome?"

"The awesome me doesn't lie."

"You don't lie, do you?"

"Prussians don't lie to pretty maidens."

"I'll hold you to that." He replied as he pinched the pale hands holding onto his. "What would it take for you to stop being my friend?"

"To stop being your friend? What? Do you not want me to be your buddy?"

"No! It's just that I'm… curious?"

"What is this? Twenty questions?"

"It will be if you don't answer my question."

A low whistle slipped past Gilbert's lips as he stared appreciatively at Matthew who craned to look at him over his shoulder. "Damn kid, maybe you are a lady." He threw his head back and let out a loud laugh that set Matthew's fluttering heart at ease. "Kid, turn around. You keep trying to stare at me like that, you're neck is gonna crack someday."

Like an obedient little pup, Matthew removed himself from his cozy spot on Gilbert's lap, turned around, and sat back down (albeit a bit ungainly as if he wasn't too sure where to put his legs) onto Gil's inviting lap. Unsure of what to do with his hands he placed them on his thighs. _This position sure isn't awkward._ He thought to himself as he blew the forlorn curl out of his face.

Gilbert set his hands onto top of Matthew's hands, which sent sparks of alarm shooting through his body. He stared up at Gilbert in surprise; mouth slightly ajar.

"Kid, what's with that look?"

Was that a blush he saw on his face!? One blink and the pale coloring on the albino's cheeks disappeared… but he was positive that it was there! As positive as Kumajiro not being able to remember his name. "Nothing… just, what's it going to take?"

"Well, I'm not too sure. Throw some ideas out for me."

"O-Oh. Okay then… um, what about if I…" Good God, his face must be beet red right now. _I can't believe I'm actually going to say this._ "Uh, well… what about if I-I i-invaded… _yourvitalregions_."

"… What?" A pause. "Wait, what!?"

"_ARGH._ Um, for-forget I even said that!"

"I'm… not even sure if you said what I thought you said."

"Uh, well, how about if I killed you?"

"W-Why would you want to kill the awesome me!? What'd I ever do to you!?"

"I wouldn't kill you, Gil!"

"But you just said that you would!"

"Gil, I was just saying!"

"You admit it then, HUH."

"_GIL!_"

Both stared at each other blankly, eyes wild and wide, before cracking up into a loud fit of snorting and laughing. "_Mein Gott_! You're really easy to get riled up." He managed to say through snorts and 'keseseses'.

"Y-You just said that I was going to kill you, what was I supposed to say! Yeah, I'm gonna kill you. OH. WHOOPS. I'm just kidding! The knife just slipped my hand!"

"You should say that your brother. I wonder how he would act."

"Gil?" He knocked the older man's head with his fist. "Back onto track. If I killed you, would you still be my friend?"

_That's really brutal though._ Gilbert thought to himself as he thought over his possible answers. _Well, I promised I would tell him the truth._ He looked at the blonde with those large eyes staring at him like he was the best person in the world (which he probably was… except for one other). _Shit. I can't lie to that face anyways._ "Well… I proba—Wait. Huh. Nah, I probably won't stop being your friend. I'm dead, it's a bit too late now."

The smile on his face told him all he needed to know.

"So… what about you?"

"Me?"

"Yes you. What would it take for you to not be my friend—Even though you would have to be out of your mind to want to leave _this_."

"Uh huh, of course." Matthew replied making no effort to hide his rolling eyes. "Though, uh… I'm not too sure. Th-Throw some things out."

"Uh…" He was expecting this, but then why was he not prepared? Well, there was one answer that came to mind, but would he risk it? Or would he not? Wait, why the hell was he thinking about this? He's Prussian; fuck risks! "Get off my lap, you're heavy."

"O-Oh, sorry. There? Better?"

He patted his empty lap. "Yeah. I think the feeling is returning." He didn't miss the blush on Matthew's face as he settled down besides him. "Well, let's see…" Gilbert wringed his fingers, head tilting up to stare up at the moon gleaming down on them. "What if… I kissed you?"

"W-What!?"

"Would you still be my friend even if I kissed you?"

Heart beating faster than a hummingbird's, Matthew wasn't too sure what to think besides: _What the hell do I SAY?!_ "Uh-Well—I—Um… I… I won't stop being your friend even if you kiss me…"

"… Is that so?"

"Y-Yeah…"

And then he said something that he never thought Gilbert would say.

"Well, that's a pity. Let's see if I can change your mind." Gilbert practically purred, a feral smirk on his face as his hands grabbed Matthew's face and crashed their lips together.

Matthew thought his heart stopped. Especially when he could feel the vibrations of Gilbert's humming through connected lips. My God, what the hell is going through his mind? _What the hell is going through my mind?_

The kiss only lasted five seconds before Gilbert pulled away, a triumphant smirk on his face, red eyes flickering madly. A hand moved to flick away that one stubborn curl of Matthew's before resting itself on his head. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time." He confessed, laughing all the while before standing up and hopping off the rock.

"Come on, let's go. I think it's seven already."

"U-Uh… o-okay…"

He had no idea what happened.

Actually, what the hell did happen!?


	19. Tying the Knot :PruCan:

You should be surprised when one of your best friends shows up –sober— at your house at three in the morning to 'have a talk.' But Francis wasn't the bit surprised. Yes, he was a bit peeved off that Gilbert woke him up, but he got payback when he sent his parrots to chase the albino around the house for a good thirty minutes.

"So, what was it that you wanted to talk to me about?" Francis questioned as he poured a steaming cup of coffee into both theirs' cup. _You're awake already; why not get a head start on life?_

Gilbert stared blankly at his reflection in the dark liquid before he swirled it around in the cup. He brought it to his lips and took a quick sip, suppressing a grimace. Francis may have the best wine in the whole entire country, but when it comes to coffee… not so much. _So damn lite._ He cleared his throat. "Well… uh, I have always… _liked_ Mattie."

"So?"

"A lot."

Francis blinked at him. "So?"

He wasn't sure if Francis was just that dense or if he was speaking German. "_A lot._" Dear God, please don't make him say it outright. A pause and he continued_._ "I'm not speaking German am I?"

"_Mon chère_," The Frenchman started, pausing only to let a light chuckle pass his lips. "I'm not sure how to tell you this, but I know. I know that you're maaadly in love with my sweet little Mathieu." _And that you two finally got together that day… not that I was stalking them or anything._

"… YOU KNEW!?"

"Yes I did, but I wasn't the only one."

"WHAT."

"Well, there's Roderich, Ludwig, Feli, Elizabeta, Feliks, Toris, Arthur—"

"How long is this list?"

From across the table, Francis blessed his friend with a sympathetic smile and took a small sip of his drink. "I can't say for sure, but I'm guessing about half the people we knew." He feigned a chill and clutched his robes closer to his figure. "My oh my, is it just me or is there a draft in here?"

"You can't change the subject!" Gilbert snapped, pointing his whole arm at Francis. "Seriously, all those people knew? And nobody told me!?" _Jeez, no wonder Elizabeta keeps stalking me and Mattie with a camera…_ "That is so not awesome." He wasn't sure when he had stood up in his heated moment of passion, but he settled back down in his chair and buried his face in his arms. "Sooo not awesome." He mumbled.

"Cheer up, _mon chère._ It's not like anybody knows that you had taken a liking to him even before you started bugging him for pancakes." Francis blinked, looking a bit puzzled at what he just said. "Oh… whoops."

"Oh whoops?" The albino repeated, glaring up at the other man through his hair. "Oh whoops? What's with the 'oh whoops'?" It didn't take long for the German to understand what Francis's mistake was. A loud groan made it ways out of his lips as he slouched against his chair. "Who's in the closet?"

"Nobody. Nobody is in the closet."

"And what would 'nobody' be a code name for?"

Francis stared at Gilbert as if he was suddenly seeing him for the first time. "Huh, you're not as dumb as you were before." He ignored the indignant 'hey' from his guest and motioned a hand at the closet. "Come out you two, he knows you're here."

And much to Gilbert's horror walked out the last two people he wanted to overhear his conversation. Elizabeta gingerly stepped out of the tiny closet, bushing the dust off her clothes before flashing Gilbert a guilty (but very happy) smile. Roderich was cleaning his glasses; same impassive look on his face as his girlfriend closed the door. Both of them pulled up chairs and sat down at the kitchen table. Gilbert stared hard at them.

"What the hell are you doing in his closet at three in the morning?"

Elizabeta looked like she was about to burst from all of the excitement. A strained and awkward grin was on her face and when she opened her mouth to answer, a squeal escaped instead. She tried again. And failed.

"_Cher_, do you need to go get some water?"

"N-No… I-I'm perfectly fine. I'm just… _really_ happy."

"And so is everybody else, but I really think you need to go get a drink."

"But Roddy! Gilbert's in _love_!"

And that was when an argument over Gilbert's love life exploded into life, leaving him to think that maybe talking to Antonio about this would have been a better idea.

* * *

"So you're pretty much asking for his hand in marriage?"

"For the last time, NO. Not that!"

Elizabeta blinked at him, her delicate eyebrows furrowed as she struggled to understand just what the hell the albino was suggesting. "But…" She started, pausing to relocate her scattered and misplaced thoughts. Arugh, now was not the time to be thinking about their wedding. Or Ludwig's and Feli's for that matter. Though it's in one more month… NO. Back onto track! "But, you're pretty much want to tell him that you're going to be with him forever and you're never going to leave him, and… what were the other things again?"

"You make me sound like a pansy. Shut up now."

"Sorry, I'm just trying to help out a good friend." _In his declaration of love to a very adorable little blonde. _She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back into the loveseat that she and Roderich were sharing.

From where Francis sat, he spared a worried glance over in her direction before turning his attention to a _non-pouting_ Gilbert. He rested his chin on his hands while looking the man sitting across him up and down. Lord, he was going to have to pull out everything in his hat for this man. "Have you considered something… blunt?"

Ruby eyes instantly perked up at the suggestion. "Blunt? Like what?"

"Just telling him how you feel."

"I… tried that."

And that caught Roderich's attention. "You did? How did that work out?"

"He ran away…"

"You said you were going to invade his vital regions, didn't you?"

"… Yeah."

"_Ma chérie, tu es un imbécile_."

"Oh Gilbert…" Elizabeta sighed, her eyes glittering with pity as she stared at him. It really irked him. "When will you learn that 'let me invade your vital regions' is not a good pick up line?" She sighs.

Gilbert bristles at the remark, glaring with venom at Francis and Elizabeta. "Hey, it's a good pick up line! I got girls that way!" There was a small pause for the Prussian to wonder if he should add the second part. Oh who cares? "And some men too."

"Yes, to _bed_ them." The Hungarian corrected, the furrow in her eyebrows back. "You're offering your life and never ending love to…"

"Matthew."

"Yes! Matthew! You're not just trying to bed him! You're trying to make it known that he's your soulmate and you're his soulmate and that you're never going to leave him! And that you're going to love him with all your heart and you'll never try—"

As soon as that flame was ignited in her beating heart and flickering eyes, all three men knew that it wasn't worth listening to her ramble on and on about… well, whatever it was that she was talking about. Roderich was pretty sure that she wasn't talking about Gilbert and Matthew anymore. Trust him, he just knows after so much time with her.

He pushed his glasses higher up his nose and cleared his throat, capturing the other two men's attention. He stole a quick glance at his still rambling girlfriend before saying, "Might I suggest going for a more… abstract idea?"

"Abstract?" The man sitting off to the corner repeated, his already pale face blanching at the thought of him attempting something… surreal. He has always been a more direct person, always have been and always will be. You know why? Because it is AWESOME.

Francis on the other hand repeated the word, letting it roll off his tongue. A small curling of the lips and a twinkle in his eyes, he tasted the word like one would do with wine. The word _abstract_ left something of a… fruity sensation in his mouth. A rather odd feeling, but it just felt right. Huh, just like his best friend and his sweet (and very adorable) childhood friend getting together. Maybe this 'abstract' thing can work… and Francis knows just the way to work it.

"Listen carefully Gilbert. Maybe this… abstract thing can be used to your advantage…"

* * *

Nowadays, Matthew wasn't too surprised when Gilbert spontaneously popped out of thin air to tell him that they have a date at so-and-so in so-and-so and disappear. It wasn't that much of a surprised anymore, but it sure did irk him. And he honestly did think that Gilbert was pushing the last of his nerves as he watched the man disappear… again. In the middle of their date. In a resturant. Full of people. People who can't seem to keep their eyes away from his table.

With a sigh, the blonde leaned against the table, pushing the food on his plate in circles. All he could do was wait and think, but maybe he shouldn't try thinking so much. He had way too much time to think before he met Gilbert, but now that he did meet the man… he doesn't have enough time to think.

He tapped his long fingers against his chin as he wondered about Gilbert and where he was and what he was doing. He could feel him slipping into his usual invisibility, but he made no move to stop the transition. It let him think in peace and quiet, but it was pretty embarrassing when he had to stop that waiter that came to clean up the supposedly empty table. Seriously, what was taking that man so long?

And speak of the Devil. There he was, strolling into the restaurant as if he only left to use the bathroom. Same cocky smirk on his face, but something seemed a bit off. Matthew could easily see the bright sheen of sweat on his face and the uneven rise and fall of his partner's chest as he sat down across from him.

"Maybe you should start running again?"

"Huh? Oh—Yeah, I guess so." He replied absent mindedly, wiping some of the sweat off his face with his sleeve. Red eyes briefly focused onto blue ones before they trailed down to stare at whatever it was that was wrapped around his left wrist and tied off with a bow on his shortest finger. He fingered the thread between two fingers. "Hey, Mattie, give me your left hand."

"What?"

"Just give it to me." He repeated, reaching over and grabbing the blonde's hand before he could usher a sound. Fumbling around with something in his pocket, he finally managed to fish it out. A pale splotchy red crept up into his cheeks; lips curved upwards at the corner as he quickly tied the thread into a bow on Matthew's left pinky. "There." He patted Mattie's hand before his own disappeared under the table.

The Canadian brought his hand up to his face, inspecting it as if you would when sampling a ring. He clenched and unclenched his fist, eyes trained onto the red thread that linked him to Gilbert. "Gilbert…" He started only to pull his glasses off to rub his eyes. He placed them back on. "I'm a bit confused… w-what is it?"

He… doesn't know? Oh shit. Oh shit. Matthew stared at the older man; large blue (with a small dash of violet) eyes stared at him. Blond eyebrows slightly furrowed at the center. Oh shit. Oh shit. The albino is going to kill Francis when he gets to him; he told him (specifically) that Matthew knew what the hell it stood for and that he wouldn't have to say it. Damn bastard. Oh shit…

"Uh… well…"

"Gil? Are you okay? You're sweating again…"

"I-It's the… red string of fate…"

"W-What?"

"An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet regardless of time, place, or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but it will never break."

Matthew stared at the thread in a new light, the start of a smile forming on his lips. Gilbert had to look away from the look in Matthew's face. It was just too… well, he wasn't sure what it was, but it ignited a warm fire behind his ribcage. It was odd. His hand instinctively dove into his pocket and bumped against the small velvet box he had in there.

"So it's pretty much like… a soulmate, right?"

Wait, why did that sound so familiar…?

"… Are you saying that… we're soulmates?"

Hold on, when were all the eyes in the restaurant watching them? Gilbert forced the thick lump in his neck back down. He tugged on his dress shirt's collar, eyes averting Matthew's bright-eyed gaze. "Stop talking, you're making this more gushy than it was supposed to be."

The blonde stared at him quizzically before smiling. "Gil, you haven't changed even after we got our degrees!" He reached over their table to poke the very visible red that stood out against his pale complexion. The smile grew even larger when Gilbert flushed a darker shade of red… well, barely a darker shade of red. "If you have anything you want to tell me, you know you can!"

Silver eyebrows knitted, Gilbert licked his lips and opened his mouth to sa—

_Ring~ Ring~ RIIIIIING~_

The chance came and went with the obnoxious ringing of his cellphone. Checking the phone number, he recognized it as somebody he previously had a talk to. "Sorry Mattie, I gotta take this." He apologized with a soft look in the blonde's direction and then he proceeded to bark into his phone.

"What the hell do you want!?"

"_If you're going to ask him to marry you, hurry up and ask! P-S, you look really nice in those clothes. Did Feli help you?_"

"Ha ha, you wish, this is one hundred percent Gil—WAIT. How'd you know what I'm wearing right now… where are you, Eliza?"

"_Ha ha… look over your shoulder._"

And that was just what he did. And he was not one bit happy to see her and Roderich sitting at a table, though you wouldn't have been able to tell it was Roderich. The man was covering his face with the menu while Elizabeta waggled her fingers at him in greeting. He really wanted to wipe that silly grin off her face.

"Hey Gil, is that Elizabeta and Roderich over there?"

The Prussian whipped around just in time to catch Matthew's eye as his gaze trailed from Gilbert to the other couple. "What are you talking about, Mattie?" He asked, a bit too loud for normal. He gave off something of a nervous '_kesesese_' before stabbing his cake with his fork. "Here! Try some of this cake! It's really good!"

"But… we had the same kind and I already finished mine…" What the hell was Elizabeta doing? Was she wrestling with Roderich for that menu? Blue-purple eyes flickered back and forth between the offered cake and the scene that was unfolding beyond the other man's shoulder.

"Just. Try. It." Gilbert deadpanned.

"… O-Okay." Matthew stammered confused as to why Gilbert really wanted him to eat his cake. Usually, the man wouldn't even let him touch it let alone _eat_ it. Eyes looked up in time to catch the Hungarian robbing a poor waiter of his menu and hiding her face behind it.

She will definitely make a great spy.

"Gilbert? Why's Elizabeta and Roderich here?" A hesitant pause. "And while we were walking here, I think I saw Francis with Arthur and Alfred loitering outside the restaurant. What's going on?"

Both pair of eyes rested on nimble fingers as they toyed around with the red thread that linked the two of them together. Gilbert's fingers tapped the thread that lay against the table, his face expressionless with thought. _Today is definitely not going as planned_ was the only thing that passed through his mind as his free hand rubbed the velvet of the container. A sigh and he resigned himself over to Fate, it's not like she didn't know what to do…

"This is not how I planned it to be, but…" His hand gripped the box and he pulled it out and placed it onto the table. He nudged it over to Matthew.

"Gilbert? Is this…"

"What do you think?"

"I think you're asking me to marry you…" Wow… he did not know his own voice could go that high.

"Well, minus the kneeling… but will you… marry me?" He changed so much since when he was in high school.

The whole room burst into screaming of celebration when all Matthew could manage was a nod and something of a sniffle. And with a loud shout of, "I HAVE CONQUERED MATTHEW WILLIAM'S VITAL REGIONS!" Gilbert strode over to Matthew and planted a kiss right onto his lips before pulling the smaller male into a hug.

The two didn't break their hug even when they felt Elizabeta's arms wrap around them and her muttering of, "You said that you weren't going to propose. I didn't have my video camera with me…"

* * *

"Congrats, bro."

"Huh? Oh hey, Alfred. You were watching?"

A ten thousand watt smile was sent in Matthew's way as his brother took a bite of his hamburger. He pushed himself off the wall of the restaurant and bounded over to greet Matthew as he exited the place. He nodded his head, his cowlick waving slightly with the action. "Wouldn't miss it for the world." He started patting him rather hard on the back, never noticing the Canadian's wincing. "My baby brother is finally growing up! He's getting married! Married, dammit!" Alfred looked ready to burst at the seams with ebullience… or hamburgers. Either could be plausible.

Matthew returned the painful pat with a gentle pat on his brother's shoulder. "I guess I won't be needing this then." He said, pulling out a dark purple velvet box from his trousers. He handed it over to his brother who opened it up to see the carefully crafted ring that the box hid.

"You know." Alfred started, snapping the lid shut. "I think it would'ave been better if you proposed instead. I would have loved to see the look on his face."

Both men stared at each other blankly before bursting into simultaneous laughter. Alfred draped his arm over Matthew's shoulder and Matthew tried to get his arm over Alfred's shoulder.

"Come on, bro. We got a bachelor's party to plan out! Gonna be totally wicked!"

"Ha ha, yeah!"

"... By the way... what's that red thing hanging out of your sleeve?"

_

* * *

_

_The End~_


	20. Epilogue

_AN: A few days ago when my history class was doing Jeopardy to review for our chapter test, one of the questions was: "What is a large underwater reserve" and "What's the name of the one that supplies the Midwest with most of its water?" One of my classmates said that the aquifer was Canada. XD The teacher commended him on a nice try. By the way, the answer is Ogallala if anybody is curious._

"Speak now or forever hold you peace."

And right at that moment, Lovino was about to jump to his feet and say some very choice words about the wedding that was going on at the moment. But out of the corner of his narrowed eyes, he could see Elizabeta staring –not glaring—at him with a fiery intensity in her eyes. My God, that just made it all the more freakier and kept his lip stitched shut.

How the hell Roderich deals with that woman was well beyond his understanding.

"You may now kiss the… groom."

He bitterly watched his younger brother clash his mouth against the taller man's and he was very positive that teeth clinked against each other. Arms folded across his chest and he was glowering angrily at the scene in front of him, but deny-he-could-not that warm feeling that spread from his chest to the tip of his toes.

God dammit, he might actually _approve_ of this marriage.

Then his mind flash forwarded to him bursting into that potato bastard's house, Antonio in tow, demanding to see his Feliciano and get some pasta for dinner. And oh, boy can he see that happening a lot. He was talking at least three times a week.

A smirk formed on his face as he watched his brother (clad in a black tuxedo) drag Ludwig (dressed in a white tux) back down the isle. Yeah, this 'alliance' was definitely going to be fun…

"That ring is like… soooo… ew."

"Really?" Matthew chirped, staring at the ring adorning his fourth finger. He tipped his head to the side, his eyebrows knitting together as he tried to see why Feliks disapproved of it so much. There wasn't anything wrong with it… unless Gilbert did something to it beforehand and Feliks caught him in the act. Oh. God. Ew. Please no. Seriously.

"Did… Gilbert… do something weird to the ring?"

"What? Like, what are you talking about? He just like… he just needs to add more pink to it. Give it something like… pazazz." Feliks explained, waving his fingers around in 'spirit fingers.'

Matthew would have laughed, but the oh-so serious look on his friend's face warned him that it might not be wise.

"So… like, when's the big day?" Feliks commented, flopping down onto the bed. He rolled over and over on the bed; it kind of reminded Matthew of a bulldozer. "Not that it matters too much. You guys are like, practically married already. Can't tell the difference."

Matthew continued staring up at the pristine white ceiling. "Yeah, he kind of just… wormed his way into my house and took on the role of m spouse..." He shook his head sending that one curly strand flouncing about. "I'm not too sure why I didn't ask him to move in sooner."

"Because you have serious self-esteem problems?"

"Probably."

"So, like, when's the big day? I gotta get everything ready for it."

"We… haven't talked about it too much really." The Canadian confessed, pushing himself up. His eyes rested on the picture he had propped up by the bed and he picked it up. His eyes met with the red ones staring right back at him, a small smile began forming on his face. "It's not too important, our feelings aren't going anywhere anyways."

"P-Peter please, can you put the camera down?"

"Aw, but Raivis, you look so pretty in the dress!" Peter protested, but nevertheless he set the camera down and bounded up to the Latvian. He stood watching for a few moments as Raivis struggled to get the back zipper zipped all the way up. Smile on his face, he took control of the situation.

"There." The man said, patting his buddy on the back. "Dress secured."

Small flush on his face, Raivis peered shyly at his reflection in the tall mirror and was thoroughly surprised by what he saw. That did not look like him. It looked like a girl. But it was him… does that mean he looks like a girl? He rubbed at his bare arms as Peter draped an arm over his shoulder.

"I still don't g-get why I have to play the female…"

"That's so simple Raivis! It's bec—"

"Attention everybody! The play's about to start! Put on the finishing touches to your costumes please!"

"P-Peter, do I look fine? None of my hair is showing out from under my wig, right?" The shorter male fretted, patting at his wig until Peter knocked his hands away.

"It will if you keep fussing with it! Here don't for—"

"The show is about to start in one minute, places everybody!"

He shoved the necklace into the dress-clad man's open palm before leaning forward and pecking him on the nose. Peter tipped his cap downwards before flashing Raivis a wink. "Good luck Raivis! Knock them dead!" And as he turned and sped off into the crowd, he looked back once and hollered (as loud as he could), "I LOVE YOU RAIVIS." One wave and he disappeared into the thong.

"… I love you too, Peter…"

"Show's about to start! Get ready! In three… two… one!"

Yong Soo snooped around the place, brown eyes scanning the place for his former classmates. Nothing could escape the scrutiny of his gaze, not even that flash of brightly colored red cloth. Wait… "Yao! Yao! I found them! I see Hong!" He chimed, jumping up and down in place as Yao struggled to get to him through the throng of people.

At the mention of his name, Hong looked up from where he sat with Vi and Thailand, nestled in quite comfortably between the two. He prodded Vietnam with his elbow as he jerked his head in the Korean's direction. "I see them."

Though, if he wasn't able to see them Thailand would have been very worried. And possibly think Hong blind, because there was no way you can miss them. He could see Yong Soo jumping up and down (it kind of reminded him of a rabid fangirl) with a finger pointing at them, and a very short (but oddly dressed) Chinaman heading their way. Seriously, how could you not miss them?

Vietnam stood up hastily, displacing Hong who stumbled off the short bench that all three were previous sharing. Tugging her shirt down, she skittered off to go greet the two.

"You guys are very late! Tibet, Kiku, and Mongolia left to get us some seats already!" She scolded as she neared Yao who stumbled out between two very beefy looking men. She fixed Im Yong with a stern glance (to which he responded to with a very bright smile) and sighed, her long ponytail swaying with her small headshake. "You guys brought the laptop, right? Mei is going to be on!"

"Yes, I have the laptop, aru." He responded, patting the bag hanging by his hip for good measure. "You would think that she would call us every now and then after moving to Taiwan, wouldn't you aru?" Yao grimaced as he felt the Korean throw his arms around his shoulders.

"It doesn't matter though! The family is all going to be there, da-ze~"

At the mentioning of _family_, Yao realized that… Yong Soo was right. They were his family: Vietnam, Tibet, Kiku, Mongolia, Thailand, Hong, and Taiwan to name a few. But Im Yong Soo… that man was his wife. No doubt.

Life is beautiful.

No doubt about that.


End file.
